


Lightning and True Love Strike Twice

by WitchProject19



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: #ghoulfuckersunite, 50's aesthetic, Bad decisions made for the right reasons, Brotherhood of Steel - Freeform, Canon Trans Character, Dark, Deathclaws, Deathclaws for days, Diamond City, Directionally Challenged Sole Survivor, Dreams vs. Reality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Falling In Love, Falling Out of Love, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Issues, Ghouls, Goodneighbor, He's gonna get lost a bunch, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Marriage falling apart, Minutemen, Smoking, Suffering, The Institute - Freeform, Trans Sole Survivor, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, hurtful good intentions, railroad, unrealistic standards, unrealistic standards of love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:10:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5826301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchProject19/pseuds/WitchProject19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New worlds call for new changes, and Nico is about to face quite a lot of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, I will be dealing A LOT with gender dysphoria and overall identity in this and it will be mostly based on my experiences as I come to terms with my own gender, so it may not be completely 'accurate' to some people as a rendition of a trans character, but it is how I have felt and continue to feel at times. This chapter particularly will delve into attempted conversion therapy, misgendering, dysphoria, and other such troubles so please be aware of any triggers you may experience.

_‘I'm in love with what we are, not what we need to be.'_

Nate had said it during prom, when they had snuck out the back of the gym and used his father's car to drive up to the peak to sneak in a few hours of alone time. She had been so nervous about being caught she couldn't even think about enjoying herself with his head between her legs under her dress. But she did enjoy herself, with all of the moaning and gasping at hair in the back seat, that was what happiness was. She just had to keep telling herself she was happy and it would be so. It worked for everyone else. That night, despite being stressful, messy, and awkward, was one of the happiest nights of her life. But it also felt like a death sentence. That hollow ringing of joy in her chest echoing with the sudden end of a freedom she once had, her smile hiding a faint feeling of dread as she held his hand in the passenger seat on their way back home. Their dalliances in the back seats of cars and behind the exit doors of movie theatres all seemed to add to a signature on a final will sealing her fate, and the last one on prom night senior year simply burned it into the paper. She was his, he had taken the last of her firsts, and for some reason she couldn't help but feel sad.

When he proposed she cried. Hot tears streaming down her face as she emphatically nodded with her family watching on in rapture, her hand extended as he placed a ring she would learn to hate on her finger. But she could never hate his smile, that goofy, lopsided and boyish grin, his teeth pinching into his bottom lip when he looked up at her as though she were all seven wonders of the world. It made her feel beautiful. The congratulations of her family and friends for the next few months powered a small generator of glee in her heart, and when the day finally came it was all she could do was stop herself from tearing the liar of a veil away from her face. It seared into her skin with silk softer than a dove's feather, branded her with a bright letter on her chest despite the fabric of her dress being softer than the most expensive chiffon. She was lying by wearing white, and she knew Nate knew it too. For some reason that hurt more than anything else, that he would lie and let her lie to keep up the appearance of perfection. But she grinned and took her father's arm any way, content to lie if it meant being happy with him. Down that aisle, standing in black with his smile waiting, eyes lighting up at the sight of her in the dress her mother wore before her, and somehow every ounce of pain felt worth it knowing he saw her as all the beauty in the world.

Married life was not so grand as everyone said, but it did have its perks. For one, the house was their own, which meant they could laugh and dance and relax on their own schedule. Work and school permitting, obviously. Her law degree was coming at a rocket's pace with the Bar looming on the very next month's calendar page, and Nate had been accepted into the US Army as an Infantryman, so their nights were spent studying and preparing for the inevitable calls they would receive from the state. It wasn't until after Nate was called in to serve on the front in Alaska in 2070 that she truly began to feel a disconnect with herself. She was exactly what she told herself she would never become, an army wife, a waifish woman awaiting her husband's return with all the other wives in a suburbia in Boston. But she refused to be one of them, and pressed herself further into studying, passing the Bar with flying colors and receiving her degree summa cum laude that following month with that same hollow happiness in her chest, her accomplishments met with nothing but dull hallmark cards with generic congratulations, not the ecstatic applause she had expected from the family that had pushed her to net the degree in the first place. The realization they had expected her to give up the law degree upon marriage hit her like a brick then, and knowing they had wanted her to settle in and have a child like every single one of her classmates had at nineteen felt like a betrayal she wished never to face again. She cried at the kitchen table that night, holding her head in her hands with the radio calmly spilling soft jazz tunes over the air. In all her time she had never been alone to consider the wrongness in herself; there had always been someone to validate her as a budding woman, to tell her the hollowness in her chest was a normal part of happiness, that her discontent with her form was simply a small part of growing up. But now, seated at the table at midnight with puffy eyes and a stuffed nose, she realized that no amount of validation from any number of people could unseat the wrongness she was feeling more keenly as the days went on. All she could hope for was that Nate would understand when he returned.

As it turned out Nate's tour did not last as long as she had thought, and as a result she was surprised to return home from work to find him seated on the couch with a rose in one hand and a box of chocolate in the other on a Valentine's Day she had completely ignored. Their night was spent thoroughly reacquainting with one another, but the nagging feeling of discontent grew ever stronger knowing he was back and would push her to be the wife she had little to no practice being. That next morning she forced herself to get up and shower before making breakfast, setting it on a tray and meeting him in their bedroom with a smile she hoped looked happy. While he sat and ate she told him of everything that had happened while he was gone, only pausing when she came upon the topic she knew she could not hide from him without risking their marriage. Uneasiness ate at her heart with fangs the size of bear claws, but his smile, the same smile she had fallen in love with, combated the fear just long enough for her to spew the uncertainty she felt with herself. To her surprise he listened and did not interrupt, his face remaining neutral and open despite her worries that there would be disgust at the end. He held her hand in his own and told her he would need to time to understand, but that he would be there no matter what, and with a smile he kissed her again before changing the subject to complement her on the food as if nothing of significance had happened, his hands slipping away as he went to shower and leaving her with the dishes on the bed.

His second tour came two years later, and in that time her mental state had worsened to the point his absence was more of a relief than a burden. Everything they did together carved out more of her heart and replaced it with ash, their discussions of her 'depression', as Nate called it, only serving to further weigh down on her already heavy mind. Her hair thinned rapidly, and though everyone equated it to her stressful work with the agency, she knew it was because the life within her was fading. There were points when the reference of herself as 'ma'am' or Mrs. McCalister made her want to scream and beat the walls with bloody fists, but she could only nod and smile. But when she was alone she was free to sink herself into work without having to worry about coming home to a husband that expected her to dote on him and maintain the house as well. That freedom alleviated some of her pain, but not enough to keep her from wilting further. She took to experimenting with clothing while he was away to combat the emptiness she felt, wearing his clothes during the weekends and even taking to wearing his boxer shorts under her pantsuits for work. It helped, in an odd way, wearing clothing she felt 'fit' better, made her feel more confident and emotionally grounded. Her cases reflected that, success after success rolling in over the months but still those who saw her asked time and time again about her husband, not her own feats in the courtroom. Was she not enough? Was there some unspoken rule in the world that made it impossible for her to be her own person beyond her marital status? She truly hoped not, but every interaction she faced seemed to indicate it was true. No one saw her as anything beyond a married woman, and that, of all things, hurt the most because she knew now that she was not a woman at all.

Nate's second return was not so ecstatic or romantic, considering she was forced to pick him up from the airport among a large group of heavily pregnant and glowing wives ready to receive their steadfast heroes with open arms. Seeing him in uniform with his bag slung over one shoulder did not evoke tears of joy, only a hollow sense of dread she kept carefully locked behind a smile she hoped was happy, opening her arms to receive him with an embrace she could tell was cold on both ends. Hugs were given and congratulations were said, but when they finally left they drove home in silence, Nate taking the wheel as he always did but with no stories or smiles for her to indulge in. She realized why in the following weeks, his honourable discharge notice coming in the mail with a small box of medals he had earned overseas sitting on the table as he stared down at the flimsy yellow letter with a deep-seated rage. He had been hurt on duty, pinched nerves along his spine that irreparably damaged his ability to move for extended periods of time, making him unfit for duty. Nate never spoke about his time on the second tour, but she could tell it had changed him, their discussions turning short and ill-tempered no matter the topic and his views on groups of people they had once adored souring in the face of his new, deep seated racial rage. As a result, her next confession to him was met with a quick phone call and a rushed appointment with a counselor who suggested she begin participating in 'womanly' activities to help reaffirm her identity. Within days they were constantly going out to pottery classes or sorority dinners, Nate sourly attending and enforcing every diagnosed remedy their counselor had prescribed, even going so far as to keep her from her work until she was 'feeling more like herself.' Yet every moment she spent 'reaffirming' her status as a woman felt as though she was scraping out her insides with a serrated blade, screaming as she smiled and nodded along with the other women at a fancy tea gathering or at a flower arranging session on a Wednesday afternoon. Soon her 'therapy' was common knowledge amongst her family and the neighborhood and they began sending encouraging letters and casseroles in vain attempts to make her feel better, but the souring papers with lovely messages and flowers filled her heart with a thickening sickness she could not bear, and soon she began taking blades to her skin simply to feel something other than the sheer numbness they seemed too keen on burying her in. It was only when Nate found her passed out in the bathroom with a too deep cut in her arm that the counselor suggested they take more drastic measures and admit her to a hospital for intensive care, which she adamantly refused until it was clear they would not let her take control of the situation. The resulting months in therapy only served to numb her further, and by the summer of 2075 she was deemed 'mentally fit' enough to return home of her own accord, Nate suggesting they celebrate by going out with her family to a dinner she could only describe as heart wrenchingly agonizing. Her job was gone, replaced by some college grad from Harvard in her absence, her dignity quashed with the constant, public, acknowledgement of her mental instability, and now her family as well, they may have smiled and congratulated her for her recovery but she knew they were placing themselves in the best light to abandon her the moment they left the restaurant. She chose then to abandon herself too, giving up the charade with a final bite of cake and a sour goodnight to the family Catalina had trusted above all else. That night when they returned home he told Nate exactly how he felt, too hurt to care how he reacted to the supposed failure of the therapy, how he was going to refuse to answer to Catalina, how he would dress from then on, how he would act, present himself, and behave. It was all very petulant, he knew, but he would stand his ground no matter how thin its crust, and when he finished he could tell Nate had lost his will to remain calm. That was the first and only time he hit him.

Sex became a chore, something they did simply to feign normality in a home that fast becoming a place of discomfort, a simple entrance, pump, exit strategy filling weeknights with the faint sounds of lovemaking that would sate most nuns with an urge to teach them better. They never faced one another anymore, he was always behind him, forcing his head into the pillow and taking the part that still marked him as The Wife, small sparks of pleasure dampened by Nate's utter apathy to it all. One thing they did share was the smoking. As did everyone else in their suburb, apparently. The Resource Wars were still raging and no one saw a shining end with clean water a commodity more expensive than pure oil, so why save lungs you may not be using in a few days? He certainly didn't see the point, and Nate seemed to share that sentiment entirely, even if he made him smoke inside to avoid the neighbors seeing what had become of his wife. December of 2076 brought a brief but unforgettable change in Nate, starting the week before Christmas. He said Nico for the first time during breakfast, as if he had never struggled or fought with it before, asking him if he wanted eggs with his toast. It shocked him so much that he forgot how to speak, but eventually he was able to relay his order and continue on with the day, a day the turned out to be the best and worst of his life. They spent the day cleaning, as they usually did on a Sunday, but Nate always referred to him correctly, doing so so casually it was almost jarring to hear his name on his lips. He wanted to ask what brought about the change but feared it would cause him to stop, so he rolled with the change and responded as well as he could, trying to to grin like an idiot every time his name was spoken with a clarity and sincerity he still could not offer himself. Sparks of life filled his chest in the space where his heart occupied, he could remember the feeling of elation being heady with a sense of pure joy as they danced to the radio in the kitchen after dinner. They connected that night in a way he had forgotten, with slow, warm embraces and tender kisses, the brand of love he had craved from their first. This first felt perfect, whole, fulfilling both emotionally and physically; and yet Nate finished with her name on his lips, bringing his world down in a single set of syllables and dashing ice water on the warmed heart he had just begun to refill with love. But he equated it for a passionate slip and tried to remain happy, settling in with Nate and falling asleep in bliss under his arms. And as all good things must end, that too was short lived and cruelly chased with reality. He found out he was pregnant on Christmas day.

When Shaun was born in September he felt as though the last parts of his heart were lost to the world at large. Nine months of torturous discomfort and mental disconnection shoved down his throat while Nate celebrated their feat with anyone who would recognize what 'they' had accomplished. The little boy in his arms clutching at the fabric of a gown that stunk of prunes was nothing more than the parasite responsible for his torture of a forced pregnancy, but the little blue orbs staring up at him begged to be loved, and he found himself giving in to a smile too similar to the one that had captured his heart in high school. He could not hate what had not asked to be brought to life, and this little thing cooing in his arms was deserving of his love even if he could not love himself. What he did not know then was that he would not have the time to show his child the love he wished he felt, because a month later the bombs dropped. He could remember the panic he felt when the sirens rang out over the city speakers, the screaming of their neighbors as they clambered towards the vault, pushing past those too unfortunate to not be on the list and standing on the entrance as directed, Nate cradling Shaun in his arms as he hushed quiet words of safety and love to the boy, only to be drowned out by a bomb landing in the ocean not twenty miles away, a massive cloud of red hot ash and radiation spilling up into the air, expanding and sucking in a giant breath of life before expelling it with a shockwave of power that hit them as they descended into the vault.

The world was ending, in his lifetime. Everything he and Nate and fought over and worried about seemed so trivial, now that he thought about it, standing in a pod for disinfection in a blue suit made of the least comfortable material on the planet. The world was ending in fire and he was there to witness it, and all he could hope for was safety deep underground with the fortunate few who made it onto the list. Maybe the new world would accept him for who he was and not the woman he had abandoned years ago. Stranger things had happened, he supposed.

Was decontamination supposed to be so cold?

Mother had said heat killed germs, not cold.

So cold.

So so very cold.

The glass of the lid was fogging with his breath, he could see Shaun and Nate in the other pod, shivering from the cold. Why weren't they letting them out of the pods? Shaun could freeze to death, he was so young.

so cold...

_'Resident Secure. Occupant Vitals, Normal. Procedure complete in 5...4...3...2...'_


	2. Significant Changes

The sound of alarms broke the fog in his mind, ice crystals blurring his vision as he jerked awake in the pod. They were back for him. Back to kill him like they had Nate. Nico slammed his palms against the pod door as hard as he could, pummeling the glass until the door released and spilled him out onto the floor with the water that had been collecting around his legs, the alarms getting louder when his ears began to depressurize. The cold from the pod must have turned his muscles to jelly for all the good they were doing him in his attempts to stand, but eventually he clawed himself up onto his feet using the console nearest his pod, wheezing and coughing as too warm air whistled down his parched throat. Starving, dehydrated. It hurt to breathe but his lungs wouldn't pull air in any slower, his vision erratically swimming between focused and multicoloured spots. He tore open the front of his vault suit simply to relieve the pressure on his chest, coughing up wads of phlegm for several minutes after the alarms stopped. The silence in the vault was deafening, but the wheezes of his breath were enough to fill the air as he calmed from the initial panic. Once his breathing had finally leveled out he turned his attention to his surroundings, examining the pods one by one to see if any one else was trapped but only finding frozen corpses in each pod he searched. Next he searched the terminal on the opposite wall, reading through the entries as quickly as he could without skimping on the details. Everyone had died because of 'life support failure' but it did not list any dates of death, Nico's stomach sinking even deeper when he saw Nate's entry on the screen. It listed his death as a life support failure as well but he had seen him move when those...people came for him and Shaun. He had been alive, he had struggled and tried to protect Shaun but-

No. 

He couldn't think of it. He couldn't panic again, not when there could be people coming for him. Panic could come when he was safe, but not now. He pulled away from he terminal and began hobbling towards the exit, zipping up his vault suit once more before making his way down the hall he vaguely remembered coming into on their way through processing. There was quite a lot of stumbling on his way through the first hall, but eventually he found enough energy to properly propel himself towards the cafeteria, immediately ransacking the cupboards for anything that was edible. Stale Fancy Lads Snack Cakes and a half bottle of beer were the first things he could find that hadn't rotted completely, but despite the two being a horrendous combination it was better than starving to death and he stuffed down two whole packages before his stomach tried to revolt, his mission becoming finding the exit as he searched the rest of the vault. It was smaller than he had expected, which was odd considering the boasted size of the vaults advertised on the television, but Sanctuary Hills had been a smaller suburb, so he supposed the vault had been made relative to the expected population. The pistol he found in the next room over was put to too good use the moment he picked it up, massive cockroaches scuttling in from under the desks and coming directly for him with single-minded intent. Most of his shots went wildly off into the cement,unsurprising considering he had never even used a pistol before, but somehow he killed the bugs with two bullets to spare, his next few visits into rooms being led by the front of his pistol just for safety. As it turned out his strategy was well thought out, as he used his last two bullets on another set of roaches in the hall preceding the main office he remembered seeing when they entered the vault. He found more ammunition on the desk with a skeleton on the floor, one of six he had found in the last hour, Nico checking he terminal while he stuffed the bullets in the only pocket the suit had. A couple of minutes of poking around yielded the unlocking of the door he needed and he made his way back out into the processing area, stepping around the skeletons cautiously to avoid alerting whatever may be waiting. It occurred to him he would have to learn how to reload and effectively use his pistol if he was to survive, but exiting the vault was his first and foremost priority. He searched the main console near the vault door and eventually found what he needed to open the cog-shaped entrance, strapping the device to his arm as he waited for the massive drill to pull the door away. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this whole situation was bizarre, pulling a pip-boy from a skeleton, shooting massive cockroaches that spit acid, being frozen underground, but it also made sense. The world had ended, normal no longer existed. Nico coughed and moved onto the elevator, hitting the button and bracing against the railing as the steel platform slowly pushed him towards the surface with jerking and groaning that could only be described as complaining. He looked up at the blast doors as they opened and immediately regretted his decision, the sun blinding him in an instant and rendering him completely immobile until the elevator stopped, his eyes adjusting to the sunlight after a few long blinks. His first look into the world above was brought short by the nothingness of it all, the bleak, shapeless land unfolding before him in a mass of destroyed vehicles and trees strewn out over a wasteland that used to be his home. 

He couldn't comprehend what sat before him, in all honesty. It was simply gone. There was no home, no roads, no cars, no lights. Plants were few and far between from what he could see in his position on the blast doors, and there were no animals at all. No people either, which begged the question of who had opened the pods, but he was so shocked by the aftermath of the bombs that he could hardly bring himself to care about the pods. This was the world after the annihilation Vault Tec had panicked about for so long. It looked so...empty. He hadn't really expected there to be corpses littering the land per se, or a scorched earth of blackened rock, but he hadn't expected there to be little spots of green popping up from the ground either. There was life, which would have filled him with hope had his first encounter not been with massive roaches, but nevertheless he started making his way towards where Sanctuary Hills used to be, picking over the uneven road and slowly figuring out where to go with no small amount of help from the map on his pip-boy. Twenty wrong turns and two precarious run-ins with aggravated misshapen deer later he finally made it to the cul de sac at dusk covered in dirt, sweat, and blood from an errant and overgrown mole rat. His leg was burning from where he had been bitten, but the bleeding had slowed enough to be negligible until he found medical supplies, Nico slowly making his way towards the least destroyed house in the lot. There was something satisfyingly painful about seeing the suburb blown to bits, the ugly pastel houses looking batter and worse as collapsed messes. He rounded the street towards the bridge and paused, catching sight of the first sentient thing in almost six hours sawing away at the bushes in front of what could only be their old house, the faint sound of humming coming from the domestic bot. Nico picked up the pace somewhat and began limping towards the bot, Codsworth noticing him as he stumbled over a large crack in the pavement.

"As I LIVE and BREATHE! It's-it's really you!" He floated over and paused just in front of Nico, all three eyestalks swiveling to focus on him.

"Codsworth...you...you're still here?"

"Well of course I'm still here! Surely you didn't think a little _radiation_ could deter the pride of General Atomics International?" He scooted closer, one eye dropping down to indicate his torn leg. "But you seem a little worse for wear, best not to let the hubby see you in that state. Where is sir, by the way?" Nico's throat closed up at the thought of what had happened, but he forced himself to speak, looking up at the rusted bot. 

"He...they...these men...they killed him..."

"Mu-Sir...these...these things you're saying...these terrible things...I...I do believe you need a distraction. Yes! A distraction, to calm this dire mood. It's been ages since we had a proper family activity. Checkers, or charades! Shaun does so love that game. Is the lad...is he with you...?" He grimaced and shook his head, perplexed as to why Codsworth wasn't listening to what he had to say.

"Codsworth, listen to me carefully...Shaun's been kidnapped. I'm going to find him but...I need your help..I need to get him back before they do something to him." 

"It's worse than I thought." He went silent for a moment, eyes rotating and sizing him up before seeming to nod in confirmation. "You...you're suffering from...hunger induced paranoia. Not eating properly for 200 years can do that to you I'm afraid." Nico's heart nearly stopped in his chest at the mention of centuries having passed while he was away, his mind spiraling out of focus a as he tried to make sense of what this delusional bot was saying.

"I...no..that's...that's not possible..I couldn't have been...they froze us but...they couldn't have...not for 200 years...."

"A bit over 210 actually, m-sir. Give or take a little for the Earth's rotation and some minor dings to the old chronometer. That means you're two centuries late for dinner!" He chuckled and bobbed in the air slightly, moving his claw forward as if to offer him something. "Perhaps I could whip you up a snack? You must be famished."

"Codsworth, you're acting strange...what's wrong? Did something happen to your...what...the...the personality modem? There must be something....because you're not...taking anything I say seriously..." The moment he asked it was as though Codsworth collapsed emotionally, his voice cracking as he waved his arms dramatically.

"I-I-it's been just horrible! Two centuries with no one to talk to, no one to serve! I spent the first ten years trying to keep the floors waxed, but nothing gets nuclear fallout out of vinyl wood. Nothing!" He sniffled and indicated the collapsed houses behind him, eyestalks drooping. "And don't get me started on the futility of dusting a collapsed house. And the car! The car! How do you polish rust?!" 

"Codsworth...I...I had no idea...I'm sorry...can you tell me if you saw anything? Anything at all? Men going towards the vault maybe?"

"I'm afraid I don't know anything mum. The bombs came and all of you left in such a hurry. It thought for certain you and your family were....dead.." He swiveled his arms around and produced a small holotape from his inner compartments, handing it over carefully. "I did find this...sir must have wanted to present it to you as a gift but...everything just...happened before he could. I don't quite know what's inside but it might be good to listen to it." He bobbed once more before turning towards the houses in the cul de sac. "Now, enough feeling sorry for myself, let us begin our search, sir and young Shaun must be around here somewhere!" Nico shoved the holotape into his pocket and looked at the domestic bot waiting for him expectantly, his eyestalks twisting and dilating quickly. 

"Codsworth, I-I don't think..." Nico sighed and nodded, waving towards the houses. "Go ahead and lead the way..." 

 

As it turned out it took a total of four massive blood sucking flies and a pair of decrepit houses to break the truth over Codsworth's shining cap, and when he had finally come around he indicated a possible location of Shaun's kidnappers, which Nico took as a step in the right direction. They sat under the shelter of the awning as thick rain droplets poured down on the land in a heavy deluge, Codsworth floating next to him quietly after he had helped close the wound on his leg. 

"Codsworth...?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have a pair of scissors by any chance?"

"I don't believe I do, I do have a rotating saw if you require help removing something. A toe, perhaps?"

"No, no, I just...I think I need to cut my hair. Make myself less....identifiable."

"Ah, I see. Well, let me see what I can find and we can get you in top shape." He floated off to search the house, leaving Nico to watch the rain pour down on the collapsed house across from them. There was a pleasant calm in listening to thunderous rain on a flimsy roof, it numbed his senses to the point he could think about his situation without immediately hyperventilating. Nate had been murdered, Shaun was in the hands of his murderer, and he himself was 242 years old after being cryogenically frozen by the people who had said they would save them from the nuclear apocalypse. It actually made him want to laugh with how bizarre it seemed, but he remained seated and silent as Codsworth returned with a rusted set of scissors in his claw,

"These are all I could find sir, but they should be enough to cut out most of the length. Shall we begin?"

"Yeah...go ahead and take it all, I won't be needing it." 

"As you wish, sir."


	3. Onward

Nico grunted as he yanked the vault suit free from his foot, tossing the ruined garment aside with little care as to where it landed in favour of starting on rinsing off the clothes he had salvaged from a corpse near the bridge, dunking them into the creek and scrubbing at the leather to free it of the maggots and blood caking its insides. As odd as it sounded, cleaning gave him a peace of mind most other activities didn't, something about the rhythm of scrubbing and soaking over and over rooting his mind in one place long enough to start to make sense of the world around him. The radiation, as it turned out, got to him first, not food poisoning like he had expected, leaving him with a fever and a case of diarrhea that kept him bedridden for a solid four days before the sickness broke and allowed him to finally keep down his meals. Codsworth seemed to take everything in stride in a surprising show of General Atomics fine craftsmanship; he helped keep his master hydrated, concocted new and oddly palatable solutions to the wildlife to keep his master fed, and even maintained his grace while ensuring Nico didn’t pass out while retching up the meal he had just downed. He was now completely sure the General Atomics’ advertisements were not lying as he had claimed back before the bombs dropped. Not only did their machine survive a nuclear apocalypse and 210 years of hardship, it maintained a rather dashing garden and helped him survive the worst of radiation poisoning to boot. All in all he was definitely worth the several thousand they dropped to get him. As of that very moment Concord was his next objective, if he could find the settlers Codsworth had mentioned then it was possible he could begin searching for the man that had taken Shaun, and they could possibly provide him with a bit more insight into the world than Codsworth could. He vaguely remembered going to Concord for school at some point, but the actual route to _get_ there was another story entirely. The map on his pip boy could only do so much, but if he ever wanted to find Shaun he would have to put aside his lacking navigational skills to scour every rock, two headed deer, and destroyed building until Shaun was safe in his arms. Codsworth’s puttering brought him out of his minor internal dialogue, the bot floating over with a tray of food in one claw and a cup of steaming something in another, his eyestalks examining the worst of Nico’s radiation burns.

“It is almost time for dinner sir, shall we sup here or shall I return to the house and await your arrival there?”

“We can just eat here, I have to get these clothes clean before I can even think of wearing them.”

“Very good sir, how is the cleaning coming along exactly?” Nico showed him the soaked leather jacket with a small smile, the material sagging in his hands as blood and clumped dirt sloughed off into the lake. Codsworth’s unimpressed silence spoke leagues beyond his generally inexpressive ‘face’, all three eyestalks looking at the coat and back to him before he turned to set the tray and cup down on a nearby stump.

“I’m doing as well as I can without a dry cleaner’s service. Did you find any use for the scrap metal we cleared out yesterday?”

“I did indeed sir, as it turns out we have enough to set up a very nice roof and help fortify the house you have chosen as well, it will take some time to melt and work it into shape, but I am confident I can do quite well with the supplies we have so far.” Nico nodded and took the bowl in one hand, spearing a piece of greyed meat and stuffing it in his mouth before the smell could get to him, chewing through the fat and tough meat as he went back to scrubbing the jacket with the bowl in his lap.

“Good, we’ll need to get the holes patched before an acid rain hits or something of a similar unkind nature. That bunker near the bridge may be a good place to hide out if the weather gets bad enough to warrant running from it.”

“Shall I stock the bunker with water and nonperishable food tomorrow?” There was a pause as Nico swallowed down another spoonful of soup, his voice cracking when the food went down the wrong side.

“Sp-split the supplies between the bunker and the house if you can, we can’t take any risks with the conditions out here so we may as well play it safe and store half underground.”

“Very good sir, shall I dispose of the vault suit for you?”

“Go ahead and use it to tie things together if you need, no use wasting the material.” Codsworth bobbed his eyestalks in affirmation and floated off to do so, leaving Nico to eat and wash the rest of the clothes in silence as the sun began to dip below the hills. He could hear the faint sounds of a dog barking in the distance, as he had for the past few nights, but ignored it in favor of wringing the rest of the water out of the jeans and tossing them along with the jacket and shirt onto the tarp he was using to carry the supplies around the neighborhood. Once he had downed the rest of his soup and coffee he rinsed out the bowl and cup before dragging the tarp up the hill and towards the house, sighing after he had finished hanging up the clothes to dry. There was little to do beyond tug on the other vault suit he had salvaged from the vault and rebind everything that needed to be bound before setting off to see what the barking was coming from, his pistol in one hand as he began picking his way towards the noise. It took him a good few minutes picking his way across the steadily rotting bridge, but eventually he made his way towards the Red Rocket truck stop where the barking had steadily gotten louder and more centralized, Nico jumping when a large german shepherd mutt rushed from the stop to meet him on the road. The dog seemed friendly enough at a distance, his ears up and twitching happily with his tail wagging in a pure show of happiness and nonaggression. Nonaggression beyond the blood caking its jaws and paws, obviously. Nico hesitated before shoving his gun in his boot and kneeling, holding out one hand for the dog to sniff, the gesture immediately being met with a wet nose plunging into his palm and eagerly sniffling every inch of his hand. Within moments Nico was forced to pet the dog and scratch behind its ears with a single shift of its head and a paw on his thigh, his mood lifting somewhat when the dog seemed to beg for more attention as he stood.

“I’m guessing you’re lost then...no collar or owner?” To his surprise the dog barked in affirmation, looking up at him expectantly. “Well...wanna come with?” Another bark and a happy spin confirmed his suspicions and Nico chuckled, looking around the increasingly dark lot of the truck stop before turning back to the dog.

“Alright then, can you find me anything good before we head back? Food?” The dog yipped excitedly and ran off, squeezing through the dented door of the truck stop and into the main lobby where Nico remembered being harassed for not having a legitimate driver’s license to prove increasingly useless car, the sound of paws on the linoleum skittering around for a few moments before the dog reemerged with two boxes of snack cakes in its jaws, dropping them at his feet with a happy bark to seal the deal. Nico smiled and picked up the boxes and waved at the dog to follow him, turning back towards the cul de sac with his newest addition in tow. By the time he had returned it was pitch black outside and the house was fully lit up by the lamps they had salvaged several weeks back, Codsworth floating to meet him as they approached.

“Ah! There you are sir, I was afraid you had run off without me! Where did you go?”

“Down the road to investigate that barking, apparently it was attached to a dog who is now...with me.” He motioned to the pup waiting by his side, smiling awkwardly. “He’s good at fetching food at least so his nose might be useful eventually. Or guard dog, can never go wrong with those.”

“Very astute observation sir! Might I suggest you take the pup to Concord when you go? It would put my mind at ease knowing you were accompanied in the wilderness.” The dog barked before Nico could answer, thus sealing his fate with the dog as his companion with a wag of its tail before it rushed off to find a place to sleep, thus signalling Nico should as well. “Such energy! Young Shaun will feel quite at home with a mutt like him to play with, wouldn’t you say sir?”

“Yeah, I think he’ll like him too.”

 

As it turned out the dog was of much more use than simply a guard dog or fetching machine, he was, in fact, a master of finding and digging up all sorts of useful and useless things alike, and he excelled at being utterly optimistic and loving no matter the time of day. Nico had no way to describe how the dog made him feel beyond loved and appreciated, and since the mutt was currently burying its face in his lap and snoozing away in the growing heat of the Autumn sun he could not escape the feeling even if he wished to. It was a very welcome change of pace from the past three months of self loathing and utter disgust with himself, and thus Nico did not complain despite the growing ache in his groin where the dog’s head was weighing heavily on his severely inflexible thighs. He had yet to name the dog, and every attempt had been met with a haughty mess of unresponsiveness from said pooch and a laugh from Codsworth. Dog seemed to be the only approximation the stubborn thing would listen to, and he despised the prospect of calling a dog Dog, but the universe had apparently designed to make it so, and so he was ready to finally give in and simply call the thing by its literal descriptor. A shame really, Ultima would have been a very fitting title to bestow upon the ultimate pissing and eating machine. Dog snorted and yawned loudly, stretching and shaking himself vigorously before proceeding to paw at his lap sleepily, drawing Nico’s attention away from a gardening Codsworth and down to his lap.

“Oh, his highness has finally awoken has he? Sleep well?” Dog yawned again and whined, licking his nose lazily. “At least you got a nap you lazy butt, c’mon, up off my lap.” Eventually Nico was able to free his lap from the lazy mongrel and stand to stretch his legs, finishing off his can of water before tossing it into the dedicated smelt pile near the workbench, shouldering his bag with a small grunt. “Codsworth, we’re off now, I should be back soon-ish.” The bot turned and waved his saw-hand in farewell, his eyestalks bobbing with emotion.

“Of course sir! I will hold the home front while you are away, please do stay safe. I can’t bear to think of what I’ll do without someone to serve.” Nico gave him a wry smile and turned back towards the truck stop, starting down the road with Dog following close behind, his eyes trained on the map on his pip-boy as it led him towards Concord, and his first clue as to the identity of Shaun’s kidnapper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait my friends, midterms got me on a writer's block that was killer for my motivation but hopefully this sates someone's need to read. Sorry about the shorter chapter but I couldn't find where else to take it (symbolized by the ramblings within, which are also apologized for)
> 
> Up next is Preston and his gang! I don't know how much 'action' I'm going to be writing or if I'll avoid writing the gun fights and violence for when it's really necessary, but who knows, I may get back into writing fight scenes like I used to.
> 
> Hopefully you enjoyed and I absolutely am indebted to you guys for reading, kudo-ing, commenting, and following this story, it means so much :)


	4. T-45

Concord was a clusterfuck. There was no use trying to explain why, the bullets and plasma beams flying overhead and bodies lying on the cement everywhere were indicators enough he had gotten himself into a legitimate, and messy, clusterfuck. Someone, a man, was yelling at him to help, which was what he was trying desperately to do, but Nico had had a total of ten minutes of gun handling under his belt and the raiders, as the man on the balcony called them, appeared to have much more. One hand was dedicated to keeping Dog behind cover while the other gripped his pistol with so much pressure it was starting to split the skin on his knuckles, but he couldn’t grip the gun any looser in the haze of adrenaline and terror he was in. Another bullet whizzed too close overhead, causing Nico to jump and duck down further behind the hood of the truck, Dog barking and snarling ferociously and trying to tear out of his grip to get at the raiders. It was too much. Nate had been the soldier. He had been trained and tried by fire and death in Alaska, he had been the one who could fight. Nico wasn’t. He had no training, no sensibility under fire, no weapons or tactical training, nothing but a legal background and three decades of pastry practice. He couldn’t even pinpoint which way to walk, much less suss out directions in a firefight. But if he didn’t he was going to die before he could even figure out who took Shaun. He would fail right out the gate and never learn what had happened. That was not acceptable. At all. Dog snarled and yanked against Nico’s grip once more, practically clawing his way towards the raiders before he gave in and released his grip on Dog’s collar, a livid blur of black and tan fur rushing over him and directly towards the first raider he saw. Nico threw himself forward and used the truck to take a majority of the bullets as he braced his arm on the concrete and fired sporadically at the raiders trying to shoot Dog, missing every shot but succeeding in pulling their attention away from the dog mauling their partner and towards its owner, who was already sprinting towards another cover some feet away. He popped up from cover again and fired at them, not taking time to aim or square off, the recoil making his arm ache, but somehow he hit one of the raiders in the chest, sending the woman to her knees while the others tried to hit their shaking target. Nico ducked down and threw his empty clip at them in hopes of hurting something, scrambling to reload before whipping around once more to empty the clip. Dog rushed the woman on her knees and tore her open in seconds, turning on the other who had tried to kick him and setting upon them as well, the man in the balcony firing down at the raiders from his vantage point above. A raider screamed and swung a bat directly at Nico’s head, missing by centimeters as he ducked and kicked out at their knee, knocking them off balance just long enough for him to riddle their chest and face with bullets. He grabbed the bat and turned just in time to swing full force into another raider’s midriff, reeling back and hitting them again and again until he felt the bat shatter on their caved skull. None of the blood registered. He was too scared to notice. All he could do was keep shooting and moving forward with the red beams frying the raiders trying to get up and Dog savaging the ones he hadn’t tried to shoot yet. He ran out of bullets rapidly, most of them spent having never graced a raider’s skin at all, but he couldn’t find time to care, simply turning to pistol whipping them into submission until his hands were dark red with blood. Nico was reasonably sure he hadn’t done anything of consequence when the gun fire finally died down, the man on the balcony lowering his musket when Dog tore the last raider’s leg clean off below the knee.

“I don’t know who you are but you’ve got to get inside, some of the raiders made it in and I can’t hold them off much longer! Grab that musket and move!!” The man whipped back into the building and left Nico to scrabble up as much ammo as he could before shouldering his way inside as well, raising the musket with Dog right behind him as the gunfire started again.

 

As it turned out Nico’s abysmal sense of direction turned out handy, since he was able to find every nook and cranny of the building except for the place where the refugees were hiding until he literally stumbled into the room while trying to grab a bod of ammo off of a shelf nearby. The raiders, luckily, never made it far enough to hurt anyone, either because they were too preoccupied trying to kill Nico, or the man from the balcony, Preston as he had been told, had shot them from the hallway before they could get too comfortable. It seemed they were all just as jumpy, or more so in a few cases, as Nico was; his hands shaking as he tried to keep his grip on the crowbar he had grabbed while he was near the generator. Preston was talking, but nothing seemed to make sense except for a few words every so often, something about Lexington and ghouls, whatever those were, and how they had been a larger group until others had died. Preston seemed to take that fact hard, his face falling as he finished speaking. Nico felt the lull in the conversation and asked the first thing that came to mind, his voice sounding odd to his thrashed ears.

“How do you plan on getting out? I heard more of the raiders outside and these four aren’t going to make it out with them camping out at the door waiting for you.”

“We are completely aware of that fact, but we have a solution if you’re willing to work with us just a bit longer.”

“I can do that…no reason to leave you guys hanging after busting ass to get here.” Preston nodded in agreement and turned to his friend working on one of the terminals, nudging him with an elbow.

“Sturges, you now the tech better than I do, give our friend here the run down so we can get out of here before dark.” Sturges left the terminal alone and turned, giving Nico a relieved and slightly doofy smile as he rubbed his hands together.

“Alright. There’s a crashed vertibird up on the roof, one of the prewar models, you might have seen it when you were running up here. Well, it looks like one of the old passengers left behind a T-45 model power armor set that’s almost in perfect condition. I’ve already been up to look at it and it seems like it’ll jump into action the moment we can get a good fusion core in it, only issue is there aren’t any lying around within reach. So if we can find a fusion core with a little bit of juice, you can climb in that bad boy, start him up, pull the mini-gun off the vertibird and hit the town.”

“I don’t think I can lift a whole mini-gun…” Sturges waved his hand dismissively and smiled, standing up from his spot on the desk.

“With that suit on you could lift two mini-guns, the servos do almost all of the weight bearing and shock intake, so even if you jump off of the roof all you’ll get is a little bend in your knees. The outer plating is bullet resistant as well so you shouldn’t have to worry too much about getting shot, just be mindful of the energy readings on the main console and you should be fine. Far as shooting the mini-gun it should have a manual trigger so all you have to do is aim in the general area of the raiders and do the old ‘spray and pray’ method, the bullets will basically do all the rest.” Nico hesitated but felt himself nod, dumping his crowbar as he searched through his bag for the power node he had pulled from the generator, the large cylinder finding its way into his hand after a few moments of searching.

“I was down near the generators a little bit ago and found this…could this work for the suit? The generator was running when I was there so it may still have some power left in it…” Sturges looked over the cell and nodded, handing it back to Nico.

“That’ll work perfectly, I’ll show you where to put it in the suit and then we can get rolling. If you want you can leave your bag with Mama Murphy, she can take care of it if you get back.” He paused in thought, seeming to correct himself before he turned back to face Nico with a smile. “Until you get back, I mean.”

“Right…thank you.” He handed off his bag and shoved his pistol back into his belt, Dog seeming to watch him before plopping onto the ground next to Mama Murphy with a look that could only be interpreted as ‘I’ll sit and stay’ when he turned back to follow Sturges and Preston to the roof. The shaking was coming back, but he did what he could to keep it under control as they climbed the fire exit stairs to the top. Once there Sturges gave him a hurried rundown of the suit’s mechanisms and how to read the panels before helping Nico get the fusion core into the back and ducking behind cover as the gunfire started back up again, the raiders yelling and cursing at them while Nico pulled himself into the brace and let the suit compress around him. It was like walking on the world’s steadiest set of stilts, with about half the motor skills and twice as much lag between movements, but it was enough protection to hold off the bullets recoiling off of his chest plate. Nico forced himself to move onto the vertibird and yank the mini-gun directly off of the side, lumbering to the edge of the crumbling roof before taking a deep breath and pressing down on the trigger, a sudden jerk in his hands preceding a steady stream of red hot lead spraying down onto the raiders scrambling for cover. The sound was dulled by the helmet, but not enough to stop the grating of bullets from piercing his ears at just the right frequency to grate against his nerves, Nico pulling back from the trigger as he shifted his grip on the gun and took a chance look down to the street below. Three stories. It wasn’t the first time he had contemplated that distance, but the first time had been free of a mini-gun and a military grade suit of armor in a nuclear wasteland so the impact was greatly weakened by the lack of danger. Lack of danger besides the raiders that survived his initial rain of bullets that was. Nico took another breath and gripped the mini-gun tightly before shifting his weight and stepping off of the building, bracing for the impact of the cement rushing up to greet him.

 

When the dust had finally cleared Nico was a wreck. The raiders had been nothing. Three sprays of the mini-gun and they were done. It was the goddamn mutant crocodile-dinosaur-thing that had thrown a major wrench in the plan. As promised the T-45 suit held up to bullets and the foot long claws of the monster that had come up from the sewers, but it didn’t stop the impact of the blows behind the claws and as a result Nico’s torso and legs were bruised to the bone and chafed where the suit had been too big to fit his smaller frame, his hands and jaw already swelling from being suplexed into the building by the thing right before Preston had blown its head off after a good ten minutes of shooting and fighting. Everything hurt, but he and the others were alive, and that was good. Or at least satisfactory, since Marcy was already gnawing on anyone who was too close to share her airspace and Jun was reverting to his perpetual nervous breakdown as Preston helped clean up Nico’s bloodied face and inspect him for broken bones, but they were still breathing, so Nico took it as a victory. Dog yipped happily and nosed Nico’s thigh, his bloodstained muzzle finding its way back into his lap while Nico held a torn piece of cloth to his nose and searched his bag to make sure everything was still there once Preston was satisfied he wasn’t terribly broken. Surprisingly his Pip-Boy made it through with only a minor crack near the edge of the screen, and everything still worked perfectly, so Nico was fairly certain he had been saved by a pixie that hadn’t been irradiated to death on top of surviving a fight with a deathosaurus. His head was throbbing, which probably meant concussion, but it didn’t matter so long as he could walk and at least ask the questions he needed to.

“So where are you guys headed now that this crisis has been handled?”

“Well, Mama Murphy has had a vision of a place called Sanctuary for quite a while now, some old neighborhood up north, but one we can make new again with enough work and time. If you want you are more than welcome to come with us, we could really use your help.” Nico remained quiet as he weighed his options, knowing that if he took too long to find Shaun the less of a chance he had to find him at all, yet part of him knew he needed to stay with them at least until they made it to their destination safely. And if he stayed he could get Preston to at least teach him how to shoot properly, which was a much needed skill he was lacking. All signs were pointing to yes, and since he had already spent a good two months just getting back on his feet he was sure he could take a few more weeks to make sure these people at least got to a safe place.

“If anything I can at least accompany you there to make sure you make it safely, so I’ll tag along for now.” Preston smiled and offered him a hand to help him back onto his feet, keeping him steady when he wobbled upon straightening.

“That’s all I could ask for, thank you. Do you have a name? We missed introductions in the middle of all the fighting.”

“I guess we did. I’m Nico and this is…Dog.” He motioned to Dog and gave Preston a slightly hopeless shrug, the gunman simply smiling with a chuckle.

“We know Dogmeat, he used to stay around us until about a month ago when he up and left. Guess he found a new person to follow around for now.” Dogmeat barked in response and wagged his tail, looking up at the both of them expectantly.

“I guess so. We should get moving, something is bound to smell the bodies and I don’t think we want to be here to see what comes to eat them.”

“You’re right, I’ll help get everyone up and moving if you want to scout ahead and start towards the housing district near the north, do you know which one I’m talking about?”

“Yeah…it’s..where I was camping out actually. I know the way.”

“Good, we’ll catch up with you in a little bit.” With that Preston turned to start getting everyone ready to go, leaving Nico and Dogmeat to start on their way back to the cul de sac, his feet already dragging in exhaustion but not enough to stop him from starting the long walk home.


	5. The Long Road

As it turned out having a small group of people to fuss over was exactly what Codsworth needed to brighten his mood. From the moment they had arrived following the incident in Concord he was a chipper and willing helper in every project Sturgis and Preston set forth. Within three weeks they had a full set of padded sleeping bags sewn out of the mattresses left behind in the neighbor’s houses, a small plot of land starting carrot and melon sprouts, and the house Nico had been camping out in had been reinforced and the roof patched all thanks to Codsworth’s remarkable memory of the blueprints. By the end of the second month they had completed most of the renovations to the main house and added a large shed behind it to store mulch, cement bags, canned goods, and extra metal materials for melting when Sturgis finally started fixing up the Power Armor. Everything was starting to look like a legitimate home, a sentiment Nico had never felt living in the cul de sac before the war. Preston was more than pleased with the progress, so much so that he had put forward a small amount of his own money, bottle caps of all things, to buy a new set of gear from a traveler who had passed through for Nico as payment for his hospitality and generosity with the campsite. The gear he purchased turned out to be a battered pair of jeans, combat boots, a ratty old winter coat, and a green flannel to wear over his vault suit to help cut down on the targeting he would face wearing such a bright blue, skin tight, attire. Another payment came in the form of offering to help with his gun handling skills after the Minuteman had caught him struggling to clean the 10 mm one night after they had finished breaking down an old Cadillac Ventura-Flyer model for metal to smelt. Morning lessons became a mainstay, Nico taking patrol with Preston while practicing out near the back of the cul de sac. He could now clean his pistol without shooting himself in the foot, which was a plus, and he could hit most objects with relative accuracy so long as they were considerate enough to keep still. Nico sighed and stuffed the 10 mm into the holster Sturgis had fashioned out of an old belt and duct tape, flicking ash off the tip of his cigarette as he and Preston sat under the awning watching the heavy rain fall in yet another deluge that had sequestered the whole group inside for the night.

“I think I’ll leave for Diamond City tomorrow.”

“Finally want to chase down that lead Mama Murphy gave you?” He nodded, running a hand along his jaw tiredly.

“I need to start searching…and if the city is as large as you guys have been telling me then I might as well take a dive and see what I can find.”

“It’s the best place to be nosey, but just be warned you can get turned around in the main city area and end up in Goodneighbor…which is the opposite of friendly when it comes to nosey people. If you want my advice, steer clear of that place and you’ll save yourself a whole pocket full of troubles.”

“Gang territory?”

“Nah, the people are fine, it’s just one of those places where if you go asking questions and you’re a new face they won’t say a damn thing. Tight knit community, real strong bonds. Cautious, but for good reason considering the population.”

“Right…maybe mark it on my map so I can steer clear in the event I get lost.” Preston chuckled and tossed him the folded masterpiece, settling back on his elbows.

“Already did, and I marked off a couple of different routes through the central city section in as many colors as I could, Sturgis made up the legend and wrote out a few descriptions for you so you can get in and out pretty easily.” He grinned, pointing to the channel number and frequency scribbled into the front of the map’s cover. “And, best of all, he got that radio working, so now if you need any help we’ve got a little station set up to give coordinates once you’ve connected to the radio signal from your Pip-Boy. No one else can use it but you and us, so we’ll have a one-way channel to find you if you get into trouble or incredibly lost.”

“I’ll be sure to check in every few days…are you able to communicate out on the signal?”

“Not yet, that old tape player we’re trying to modify still isn’t letting us hook up a microphone or phone receiver, so for now we can’t broadcast, but if we can get it rigged up to the settlement beacon then we might be able to send out updates over the radio once Sturgis gets everything figured out.” Nico ran his thumb over the map and nodded, sighing quietly.

“I’ll keep any eye out for radio equipment while I’m out, I might be able to bring something useful back.”

“If you can find a couple of those old phone cords, or even a full phone with all the parts in it, we’d be golden. Last I checked we were missing the connections needed to do a wide range broadcast on the settlement beacon. Sturgis told me your Pip-Boy has all the parts to broadcast all on its own if it has a specific frequency to connect to, so even if you were out by Libertalia you could send us a ping and we’d get it within the hour. I don’t understand all of the specifics but that little device is a really amazing thing to have on hand.”

“I…I honestly couldn’t agree more. How long of a walk is It from here to Diamond City do you think?”

“I’d say a good four or five days of walking depending on your speed, it isn’t a horrible walk, just be prepared for blisters.” Nico gave him a wry smile, flicking his spent cigarette into the rain and blowing out a mouthful of smoke with a sigh.

“I can only imagine. You wouldn’t mind if I took Dogmeat with me, would you?”

“He’s your dog now, we wouldn’t be able to stop him from following you even if we wanted. Just bring him and yourself back in one piece and we’ll be fine.”

“I can do that.” Preston smiled, watching as Dogmeat barked and leapt into a large puddle outside the house, flopping into the water and rolling around before hopping to his feet once more and sprinting away to chase something on the other end of the cul de sac. “I suppose I should go and pack…thank you for the map.”

“Of course, go ahead and ask Mama Murphy if you need any help figuring out what to pack.”

“I’ll do that. G’night.” Preston shifted out of the way to let Nico through before resuming his lounging on the driveway, humming along to ‘Atom Bomb Baby’ when it started on the radio.

 

The next morning started early for Nico and Dogmeat, the two leaving Sanctuary just as the sun started to rise despite the rain still falling at a relatively heavy downpour. Preston was the only one who saw them off due to his patrol starting the same time Nico had planned to leave, and by late morning Nico had already passed through Concord and picked his way across the demolished road leading towards the heart of the Commonwealth. There was a quiet eeriness to the empty streets, nothing but rainfall and the occasional misstep causing a disturbance as they trekked down Main street towards the interstate. With a combination of the marker on his Pip-Boy and the map in hand Nico found himself getting lost much less than he had originally feared, using the carefully scribbled notes Sturgis had left to help him pick through the wasteland until he final hit the interstate, turning south and starting the long walk towards the cityscape. Both he and Dogmeat were soaked, though his Vault suit under the coat and flannel Preston had bought kept him from being wet to the skin he could still feel the chill of the wet clothes hanging over his shoulders and sticking to his arms and legs as he walked. He found himself scanning the horizon often, taking note of the changes in the trees and the shrubberies where they had begun to grow back from the singeing of the bombs. There were new blue flowers the size of his palm he couldn’t identify, but smelled faintly like old laundry and musk, not entirely unpleasant but not something he’d keep on his person for long, and wild carrot blooms that he nabbed if only to collect the seeds and add to the garden when he returned to Sanctuary. The buildings in the distance were hard to recognize, but he could see what remained of the Trinity Radio Tower sitting prominently amongst the fog slowly descending over the bay area. The garish building had been an eyesore in the past, always playing obnoxious Nuka Cola ads and running promotions that blocked most of the traffic in the area with tourists who were suckered in by the glitz and glam of Nuka Girl’s advert scheme. It felt oddly fulfilling to see such an ugly tower destroyed by time, similar to the suburb and its stinging lack of comfort before the war. Further on he could make out the faint outlines of the airport and the main air control tower, then site most likely completely irradiated and unsafe to traverse since the entire building had been reinforced with concrete out of a fear the Chinese would carpet bomb the port in retaliation. It was remarkable the tower stood after the bombs dropped, but the structure was made to endure direct impact from planes, so he supposed nuclear fallout wouldn’t do much to a tripoidal structure. Dogmeat barked and raced towards an abandoned truck, clambering inside before returning a short while later with a rifle in his jaws, tail wagging delightedly as he deposited the weapon at Nico’s feet to examine. Upon bending to pick up the rifle he found it almost rusted beyond repair, but the barrel and firing mechanisms looked as though they would work if cleaned enough, and the ammo remaining seemed good enough for the time being, but any other observations were above his skill level. He shrugged and tucked the gun into the opening of his backpack and rubbed Dogmeat’s head as a reward, continuing down the road towards the remaining exit sign as directed by the notes on his map. At the five hour mark he stopped off to eat, tearing into a small chunk of dried meat and half a can of water to wash down the stringy texture while Dogmeat chewed on the other half of his lunch, the two relaxing under the cover of an old warehouse just long enough to check the map and check in on the radio before setting out once more with the sun beginning to burn through the gloom of the greyed clouds. Once or twice they were fortunate to come across sets of abandoned cars or freight trucks, the supplies inside ranging from useless dresses in suitcases to the occasional box of ammunition and stimpaks, all of which Nico took simply to pad his supplies and extend what use he had of them. He did keep one dress and during their next break around the late afternoon he cut it into manageable strips and bundled them into the first aid kit as ‘bandages’ in the event of an injury. One car’s dashboard turned out to be a treasure trove of bottlecaps, all stuffed into the glove compartment amongst a mess of overdue traffic tickets and burger wrappers long past their expiration date, and upon counting Nico was pleased to find that he had collected nearly 300 in total, though he was sure the reason so many were hidden in the glove compartment was because the old owner was an addict of the soda the caps had come from. Either way, he was happy to have something to add to the small baggie he had collected while cleaning up the cul de sac with the siblings weeks earlier. 500 caps, more or less, was what he had to his name now, and by the end of the first day he and Dogmeat could just barely make out lights along the skyline as they settled in for a night huddled under the cover of an abandoned freight truck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologize for the massive delay in updates, time and writer's block got away from me and I have just been able to pick my stories up again after what would almost constitute a hiatus. Hopefully I will start updating at least this one more frequently in the future, and I may end up posting something new depending on how I feel about it later on.
> 
> Thank you for hanging in there and reading what I have put up, it means a lot to me


	6. Diamond City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nico: ~able to sneak through sleeping ferals without issue~
> 
> Me: God I wish that were me

The main city center was labyrinthine compared to the outskirts, rubble, corpses, and unidentifiable trash doing nothing to aid him in his journey to Diamond City. Any buildings he could have identified on sight from the outside were blocked by the crumbling skyscrapers that framed every street and walkway left by the bombs, leading him through hundreds of twists and turns that arguably put him in more dead ends than any cul de sac ever had. By the fourth day of wandering the city streets he was fairly certain that he knew every nook and cranny of the maze of rubble _except _for the one he desperately needed to find, his frustration mounting as he ran into the same dead end for the third time that afternoon. On top of being hopelessly lost his body ached from days of non-stop walking and climbing through the rubble, making it even harder to concentrate on his surroundings and leading to more instances like the one he was currently in. He huffed and kicked a reproach corpse, dragging his hands down his face to vent the ever-growing urge to scream before turning back the way he had come, Dogmeat trailing behind him with a quiet whine. He’d done his best to wrap his paws in thick sections of tarp he had found near the bridge before entering the city, but it had done little to save the poor mutt’s pads from the abuse of the uneven and rough terrain.__

__“I know…I know…I’m getting sick of this too, boy. If we keep going on like this we may have to turn around and ask Preston to come with…supplies won’t last much longer like-“ The combination of movement in his periphery and Dogmeat’s snarl cut him off, two hulking figures stopping a few hundred feet away as they became aware of each other’s presence in the otherwise deserted city street. Nico couldn’t quite place where the animalistic urge to flee came from when he realized they were vaguely humanoid in construction, the green beasts staring at him as he stared at them for a long moment. It wasn’t until he saw the mini-nuke strapped to one’s hand that he decided it was high time to run, a sharp whistle coming from his mouth as he turned and immediately began booking it towards…anywhere but where the green men were. Dogmeat was right beside him in a matter of moments and several feet ahead of him soon after, Nico trusting him to take the lead and deliver them somewhere safe as the beeping of the nuke grew closer behind him. He couldn’t bring himself to look over his shoulder to see how close the green thing was, he just kept his eyes locked on Dogmeat and followed him through the rubble as best he could. Any stumble made his heart drop into his knees, his stomach following when he caught a glimpse of a barricade with people stationed behind it. All he could hope for was that they wouldn’t shoot him on sight. He let out a strangled yell and held up a hand to catch their attention, all three starting to wave back before noticing his pursuer and scrambling to grab their guns._ _

__“Shit, get behind cover dumbass!! What the hell were you thinking bringing one of ‘em here?!” Nico assumed the instruction/admonishment was for him and hurried to do as he was told, burning out the last of his energy catching up to Dogmeat and grabbing his collar to stop him from running too far off, dragging him behind a cement wall with a grunt. Dogmeat was not pleased with being manhandled, and let his annoyance show in the form of several harsh kicks to his stomach and chest as he struggled to be free of Nico’s grip around his torso. He did not relinquish his hold despite the struggling, holding the mutt close as the men at the barricade fought off whatever the green thing was. By the time Dogmeat had calmed down enough to warrant releasing him the thing was dead, all three picking around the mini-nuke to avoid setting it off. He let Dogmeat go and gave him a small pat in apology, slowly making his way over to the guards. Upon closer inspection, it became obvious they were wearing baseball gear, the padded catcher’s vests painted with diamonds just as their helmets were. He didn’t get the chance to thank them though, the closest one turning and practically shoving him with the butt of his rifle._ _

__“What the hell were you doing?! Trying to get us killed by dragging a Suicider all the way to the Wall?!”_ _

__“I-I didn’t-“_ _

__“You didn’t what, think?! Jesus man, where’d your brains go?”_ _

__“Look, I’m sorry for bringing that…thing all the way here but I’m not exactly equipped to handle green monsters palming mini-nukes.”_ _

__“What the fuck are you doing outside the Wall then genius?”_ _

__“…looking for Diamond City. Could you give me directions…?” All three looked at him like he was, in fact, the stupidest man on earth before pointing to the wall behind them, Nico’s stomach sinking when he saw the sign sitting right in front of him. He was much more tired than he had thought. “Right…”_ _

__“Get out of here before you get yourself in more trouble.” He nodded and turned away quickly, face burning as he hurried towards the marked entrance of Diamond City. There was a blessing of multiple marked signs along the way that kept him from getting lost, but upon finally finding the main entrance he was disappointed to see it was closed, a woman standing outside and arguing with the intercom._ _

__“Oh come on! I _live_ here, you can’t just lock me out!”_ _

__‘Look, I’m sorry Piper, but Mayor McDonough has made his orders clear, you’re not allowed back into the city after what you wrote about him.’_ _

__“What so he’s scared of a little reporter now?”_ _

__‘Your article isn’t just affecting him, Piper, the whole City’s in a tizzy about this. I’m really sorry, but I’m just doing my job.” Piper let out a frustrated yell and threw her hands into the air, turning away from the intercom with a scowl. Her expression changed, however, when she saw Nico approaching, waving him over quickly and dropping her voice so the intercom wouldn’t pick it up._ _

__“You want into Diamond City, right?”_ _

__“I'd really like to get in, yes. What’s going on with the gate?”_ _

__“It’s a long story, just play along okay?”_ _

__“Alright then…” She grinned and turned back to the intercom, hitting the button with more force than was strictly necessary._ _

__“Oh, what’s that? You’re a trader from Quincy? Looks like you’ve got enough supplies to stock the city for a good month or so. Real shame they aren’t letting anyone into the City right now, looks you’ll just have to take your business to Goodneighbor.”_ _

__“Yeah, well if I can’t get in here that’s my next stop…they pay better than here anyway.”_ _

__‘Jesus Piper…just a sec, let me see what I can do. Sorry about the wait, whoever you are.’ Piper did a quick fist pump of victory before stepping back to watch the gate slowly start to pull itself upwards. It was quite surprising to see the mechanisms working after nearly 200 years, but they seemed to be in good enough repair to keep the heavy metal gate from crashing down on top of them as they headed into the old ticketing area of the baseball diamond. The man who was there to greet them, however, was not happy to see them, his heavy-set face flushed in anger. Looking at the way he dressed Nico assumed he was the mayor that had ordered the gates shut on Piper, the tiny flower in his lapel sitting askew from his pacing. He would be a charmer, for sure._ _

__“Piper, I’m not going to let you inside. Not after that slanderous paper of yours has basically tarnished my reputation! I’m half a mind to scrap your press for parts!” Piper immediately jumped in on the threat, closing the distance between herself and the mayor in a few strides. Were it not for his hat it seemed she would be several inches taller than him._ _

__“And throw free-speech in the dumpster? Sure, let’s see how that blows over with the people! Do you want us to start registering on a chart too so you can keep track of us by batch number? Would that make you more comfortable?”_ _

__“You-how dare you! Insinuating that I would ever do such a thing is…is beyond comprehension!”_ _

__“I’m pretty sure that’s how it’s looking to the new comer! Right?” Piper turned to him for support, Nico practically shrinking under the sudden scrutiny of not only her but the mayor as well._ _

__“I…ah...I’d rather not...” The look Piper gave him was far from satisfied with his attempted deflection, the mayor taking it as a win and bowling over anything else Nico could have said with his own response._ _

__“I’m sure the newcomer would be much happier if…he was not involved with your desperate attempt to have me slandered.” McDonough gave him a slightly desperate glance to ensure he had made the correct decision of pronouns based on appearance before seeming to realize he was not, in fact, a trader, turning his full attention to Nico with a barely pleasant smile. “What exactly brings you to Diamond City? Did our friendly town interest you in some shopping, or are you looking to move in to the safety of the Wall?”_ _

__“I’m…actually looking for someone. But if what I’ve seen so far is any indication I’d guess your city isn’t as friendly as you want it to be.” That dropped McDonough’s smile faster than Piper’s presence did, the reporter grinning at him._ _

__“He’s got you there, _mayor_. Guess not everyone can fall for that shark-toothed smile of yours.” He cleared his throat loudly and shot Piper a disgusted look before looking back to Nico, his entire personal straining to seem pleasant and inviting. The attempt was about as successful as his shirt buttons retaining his pudge, as in not very. _ _

__“A minor hiccup, I assure you. Who exactly are you looking for? A doctor perhaps?”_ _

__“No…a missing person. Would you know of anyone that could help me track them down?”_ _

__“Whatever you do, don’t go to Diamond City Security for help.”_ _

__“Piper, I swear- don’t listen to her. It is true that our security force cannot handle _all_ claims that come through I’m sure that you can find help here in our wonderful city. We have nearly every conceivable service available and I’m sure one of our many citizens would be more than happy to help you find whoever you are looking for.” Nico felt a small knot of annoyance form at the non-answer the mayor had given, deciding to use his exhaustion and travel beaten looks to good use._ _

__“I’m sure that’s true…but a mayor of a great city like this must know someone by name who can help with situations like this. It’s urgent, and I don’t have a lot of time to spare looking for them…it might be too late if I don’t get help right away.” Surprisingly his tactic worked, the mayor sighing and rubbing his hands together for a moment before answering reluctantly. The fact he lowered his voice was probably no coincidence either._ _

__“Well, there is one private option you could pursue. A…citizen by the name of Nick Valentine lives here who works as a detective of sorts. He specializes in finding people, though usually for unpaid debts and similar financial situations. Look, I am sorry that Diamond City Security doesn’t have time to help but I am sure that Mr. Valentine’s services can be bought for a marginal fee. Now, if you’ll excuse me-“ Piper huffed and shoved her way in front of McDonough, staring him down._ _

__“This is ridiculous, tell him the truth about how Security won’t handle missing person’s cases! How they look the other way when people disappear in the middle of the night!”_ _

__“That’s IT Piper! Consider you and your sister on notice! One more incident and you two will be out of Diamond City faster than you can blink!” McDonough whipped around and stomped off without another word, leaving Piper and Nico to watch him leave with matching looks of disgust._ _

__“Pff, he’s all talk and no show. All he’s ever been good for. You, however, are pretty impressive. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone pry actual information from his ham hands.”_ _

__“He doesn’t seem like he’s just threatening you this time…”_ _

__“He won’t throw me out if he knows what’s good for him. Don’t worry about me, besides, you’ve got your missing person to look for. You know what? After you talk with Valentine come over to my office, I think I want to interview you for my next piece about the Diamond City’s security force.”_ _

__“Is…that really wise?”_ _

__“Yeah, why not? The only way issues in the system get fixed is by exposing them to the greater populous, and I have the best way of doing that. Systematic ignorance of a growing missing persons issue is something that needs to be called out, and the fact he literally told you Security wouldn’t handle your case is just more proof of that.” He nodded and sighed, motioning for her to lead the way as Dogmeat finally looked up from licking at his paws. He desperately needed a bath now that Nico got a good look at him. A bath for both of them would be a good idea before he went to talk with the detective. The detective with the name of one of his best friends from before the war._ _

__“Piper Wright, by the way. What’s your name?”_ _

__“Nico McCalister. And Dogmeat.” She grinned and nodded, pointing to a shack nearest the entrance before grabbing a folded pamphlet from a pile near the girl he assumed was her little sister and handing it to him._ _

__“Good to meet you Nico, my office is right here so whenever you’re ready for that interview just swing by and we’ll have a chat alright?”_ _

__“Right, by the way, do you know where I could clean up? Dogmeat needs a bath and I’m pretty much in the same boat.”_ _

__“Oh, yeah, if you go back towards the dugouts you’ll see one that’s marked as the Dugout Inn, they’ve got rooms with baths available. I’m betting they’d let you have one just for a chance to wash up for half price.” He nodded and craned his neck to see where she was pointing, catching sight of the dugout mentioned and thanking her before starting off towards the inn. The city was impressive for being built in the middle of an old baseball field, the stands and seating areas outfitted with shacks and respectable living areas surrounding the market place where people milled about searching for items to buy and trade for with whatever money they had. This was not what Vault-Tec had imagined after the bombs dropping, but it was a good sign of recovery if nothing else. Dogmeat kept close to him, only pausing outside the door to the Dugout Inn when Nico motioned for him to sit and wait. Better to ask about pets before barging in with one covered in dust and blood. Once he was satisfied that Dogmeat would stay put he pushed inside and approached the counter awkwardly, waving to the nearest tender for service. As it turned out both men were nearly identical in appearance, one grinning as he approached._ _

__“Welcome! How can I help you?”_ _

__“Two questions, do you have a room available for just long enough to bathe, and are dogs allowed?”_ _

__“Yes, and yes. Just make sure any messes the dog makes are cleaned up, as are your own. Room will be 25 caps up front. My brother will get you the key. Vadim!” The other man looked up when he was called, setting a glass aside and approaching quickly. “Room for day stay only, he has a dog so put him in room 4.” Vadim nodded and beckoned him over to the register, letting his brother return to working the bar as he rummaged around for the keys. Once money had changed hands he showed Nico to the room and handed over one of the keys and a bar of soap from the dresser nearby, letting him get situated on his own. Nico set his bag under the bed and made sure to lock the door before heading back out to grab Dogmeat, leading him inside and letting him hop onto the bed once they were safely behind closed doors. The room was small, but it would work perfectly for what was needed of it, Nico starting to strip out of his layers one by one and stretching with a small groan once the restricting fabric of the vault suit peeled off. Pulling off several day-old duct tape was another issue entirely, his skin coming away raw and sensitive once he was finally able to peel off the adhesive holding the bandages on his chest. There was relief in the ability to breathe freely again, Nico folding his clothes on the bed and letting the vault suit hang around his waist as he started filling the bath with lukewarm water. Dogmeat seemed content to laze on the bed while he undid the ties on the tarp covering his paws, giving each paw a small massage to help work out whatever pain had started during their punishing walk while he waited for the tub to fill. Finally, he grabbed the soap and tugged on Dogmeat’s collar gently, nodding towards the bath._ _

__“C’mere boy, let’s get you cleaned up.”_ _

__

__After bathing came food, a quick stop at the noodle bar providing enough of a meal to hold off hunger for a few more hours while Dogmeat chewed on another strip of jerky. It was odd watching a Protectron make noodle bowls, but the food was better than anything he could manage with the current ingredients so it was more than enough to sit and listen to the bot ramble off the same question in Japanese for half an hour while he ate. Finding Nick’s office was a conundrum he saved until afterwards, though it turned out to be much easier than anticipated. The neon heart sign illuminating the alley was very hard to miss. He sighed and knocked before stepping inside, half expecting to see Nick sitting at a desk with a thousand case files surrounding him just like his old desk at the Boston department had been. The office was not far off from the old department with at least ten different filing cabinets lining the walls with files sticking out of them haphazardly, though there was no Nick, just a young woman bending over a box of files as she dug around for something._ _

__“Oh Nick…why’d you have to run off again…”_ _

__“Excuse me...miss?” She straightened and turned to face him, doing her best to wipe away her worried expression as quickly as possible._ _

__“Call me Ellie, and I’m sorry but Nick’s out on an assignment right now. I have no clue when he’ll be back…I can write down your name and where you’re staying in the city if you don’t want to wait around for him.”_ _

__“Is there no way of contacting him?”_ _

__“No, I’ve tried but…well, he hasn’t answered any of the radio hailings I’ve had Travis send out over the main Diamond City Radio station. He was supposed to be back a few days ago but now…I’m worried he’s gotten into trouble.”_ _

__“Where did he go? I…might be able to help find him.” She sighed and showed him the notes that Nick had left, the handwriting eerily like what he had seen back before the bombs dropped. The same scratchy thin scrawl that leaned to the left all the way throughout with the same large capital letters. Somehow he’d survived the bombs dropping, was it possible there were other vaults that had frozen people?_ _

__“He was going to Park Street Station, said there was a vault down there that got overtaken by a local gang and he suspected that was where our missing person is. If you do go looking for him please be careful, the gang he mentioned is really dangerous and I’d rather not get you killed sending you in after him.” He nodded and handed back the note, giving her a small smile despite not feeling very confident in what he could do to help. But Nick was his only chance to find Shaun, and he’d never let a friend stay in trouble if he could help it._ _

__“I’ll see what I can do, do you have something of his by any chance? Something he wears regularly?”_ _

__“I’ve got a couple of ties of his that might work if you’re planning on using your dog to track him down. I don’t know how much of a scent they’ll have though.”_ _

__“It’s worth a try at least.” She nodded and went to grab one of his ties from the adjoined room, bending to let Dogmeat sniff at it. After a moment, he turned his nose to the ground and made his way towards the door, barking softly and sitting by the door as a clear indication the trail continued outside. They shared a look before Ellie handed over the tie as well as his notes to the case._ _

__“If you’re headed there now you’ll have to go fast, once it gets dark the roads near the subways get overrun by ferals.”_ _

__“I’ll be back as quick as I can.” She nodded and thanked him as he left, Nico letting Dogmeat take the lead as they headed towards the main exit and out of the city. He paused just long enough to make sure his bag was secure before following Dogmeat out past the barricades where he was circling a pile of rubble searching for the scent. The search went on for a long while, Dogmeat leading him through multiple underpasses and alleyways before they finally made it to the station Ellie had mentioned, Nico freezing when he saw the withered and melted looking bodies strewn about the street. Dogmeat paused as well upon seeing them, crouching low and growling at the threat. They were so much grislier in reality than what Preston had described to him when he had asked, hollow eyes, gaping mouths, and horribly twisted bodies laying in death-like stillness on the pavement, sucking in gurgling breaths intermittently. Preston had said the feral ones were basically vegetables that could still move, brains melted from extended radiation exposure and their bodies rotted by the putrefaction process heat exposed corpses went through. Sentient ghouls, he had been assured, were no different than regular people except for the melted skin, but they were still feared by many because of how unnatural they looked. And how they would all eventually turn to the feral ones he was seeing now. A looming threat of mindless existence he was sure had been used to power some political movement or another at some point. If mayors had not changed then he was sure politics had not either. He sighed and pulled out his pistol, checking to make sure it was loaded before scanning the road again. There was only one way into the station that he could see, and it was a minefield of ghouls. Some moved, but only barely, apparently too lethargic in the late afternoon sun. Basking like hairless cats. It was not a helpful mental image since there was a very real possibility he would have to kill them if they acted up, but one that made his fear less pronounced for now. He grimaced and placed a hand on Dogmeat’s back, slowly making his way towards the station entrance while keeping an eye on the ghouls, heart thundering in his ears and leaping into his throat every time a ghoul took a sharp breath in or shifted on the pavement. He wanted to jump out of his skin when one rolled over and showed just how disgusting its face was up close, a huff of rotted air catching him directly in the face as he crept along the last few meters to the stairs. Dogmeat was a stellar creeping partner, the two of them making it to the doors of the station completely unmolested save for the face full of rotting morning breath he had gotten right at the end. Once inside he took a slow breath in and pat Dogmeat’s head gently, letting him sniff at the tie again and following him into the abandoned train station. He had made it to the station alive, now it was just a matter of finding Nick in whatever gauntlet the gang had created for him._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, for the love of all that is holy and for your own personal safety and health, do not bind with duct tape or ace bandages, for this work it is due to a lack of resources and knowledge on Nico's part that he is doing what he is doing to pass as male. 
> 
> Also, I'm operating on the head canon that Nick and the Sole Survivor knew each other before the war, in this case because their work as detective and lawyer brought them together on multiple occasions while Nick was investigating Eddie Winter in Boston. This will be expanded upon soon! 
> 
> As always, thank you for your patience in between updates and reading this fic, it means a whole lot to me that people enjoy what I'm putting out thus far


	7. Search and Rescue

The subway system of downtown Boston was something of a nightmare before the war. It was crowded during baseball season, winter packed the tunnels with people vying for a place to get away from the snow and winds, and year-round there was always something that delayed a train or stopped one from coming altogether. Security had always been tight as well since the common sentiment was that the Chinese would use the train system to cripple the city and cause mass casualties. Nico could remember several instances where security had caused more problems than they solved by being down in the tunnels with everyone else, locals and tourists combined. That was why Nate had refused to use the subways after he had returned from Alaska. Too crowded, too hot, too loud, everything that set off his alarm bells and made him more a caged animal than a veteran of the US Military. He had ranted on how the subway system as it was was a perfect storm of chaos that would make the subways a deathtrap in the event something ever actually occurred, tossing out their annual military passes soon after despite neither of them being ‘fit to drive’. From where he was squatting behind cover it was clear that Nate’s paranoia had been correct. There were skeletons everywhere amongst the rubble, piles of old suitcases sitting against the wall behind him where he was sure raiders and scavengers had searched through them years before. Another volley of bullets sprayed into the cement support beam he was hidden behind, dust flying into his face as he struggled to reload his pistol. He had enough ammo for a long while, Preston had made sure of it, but using it effectively was now his greatest challenge. Nico took a deep breath in before grabbing a chunk of cement and throwing it at the nearest gangster, using the distraction to raise his pistol and fire while Dogmeat tore out from behind their cover. It was quite unsettling watching him dive directly into a man’s throat knowing that he was more likely to end up sleeping in a lap than in his doghouse, but he supposed that was the normal he was dealing with now. He ducked behind an overturned Nuka Cola machine and pumped a couple of bullets into the man being pinned by Dogmeat before turning his attention to the other two, landing enough body shots to drop the second before having to reload. Dogmeat tore into the third while he fed bullets into the gun, barking when he had completed the job. A small part of Nico dreaded having to clean out blood from his fur so soon after giving him a bath, but he buried that sentiment under the same rug he was shoving his disgust at having shot multiple people in cold blood. All to be dealt with later. He did a quick search of the corpses for anything useful before pressing on, this time expecting more gang members and finding them as he passed into the next boarding area. Behind them was the path leading to the vault, walkways giving away to dirt where the construction team had not yet completed their work. He grimaced and crouched down, gripping Dogmeat’s collar and pulling his attention to the nearest man, waiting for him to zero in on the target before letting him loose. He took the moment of shock immediately after Dogmeat was set loose to capitalize on the lack of bullets being sent his way, firing off rounds as quickly as he could while moving to the next available cover, deciding not to think on the small thrill of victory that raced in his chest when he saw he had actually hit his mark. Instead he ducked into cover and reloaded, peeking out just long enough to aim and fire off a couple of shots to keep them all from converging on Dogmeat. The longer the fight went on the more shots he found himself landing, recoil from each shot only serving to make his arms sore as he and Dogmeat cleared out the last of the gang members stationed outside the vault entrance. With adrenaline thundering in his veins he climbed the scaffolding and opened the vault without a look back at the pile of bodies he’d created, crouching low to avoid being seen by anyone on the inside as he hurried along the catwalk. The noise made by the door was more than enough to alert the nearest guard, two men coming to investigate as the massive door was finally rolled out of the way completely. 

“God…I hate it when they open this damn thing.” 

“I know, but look at it this way, at least we know when it’s opening. Makes it that much harder to ambush us.” Nico crept behind them and held his gun steady, firing twice to take out the nearest man before turning to pin the other down with the barrel of his gun, Dogmeat snarling in warning while he fought down the shaking in his shoulders. He really hoped that his voice didn’t crack. 

“Jesus fuck-“

“Where is Nick Valentine? Tell me.” 

“How the hell did you find-“

“None of your damn business. Tell me where the detective is being held.” 

“He-he’s down in the cafeteria, you’ll have to jump down a maintenance tunnel to get to the rest of the vault from here since they never finished construction. Just go to the left door and take a right, the hatch is there.” He nodded and stepped back slowly, pulling his finger off the trigger. 

“Fine. Get going, I don’t want to see you when I come back, understood?” There was a moment of hesitation before the guard booked it out of the vault, Dogmeat barking at him viciously as he went. Nico watched him go for a moment before turning and heading towards the hall he had been directed to, yanking the hatch open with a grunt. It was as he had been told, the tunnel dropping through two other levels before seeming to end in a storage closet where several boxes of Vault Tec supplies had been raided for their contents. He sighed and looked to Dogmeat, taking a moment to calculate how exactly he was going to get the dog down to the next floor without hurting him. After a long moment of thought he pulled off his backpack and dropped it into the hatch, letting the bag fall to the ground below before slowly starting to lower himself onto the ledge halfway down the hatch, balancing over the hole and craning his neck up to where Dogmeat was watching him. 

“Alright…c’mere boy, I’ll catch you.” Dogmeat let out a low whine but eventually squirmed his way into the hatch, Nico grunting and cradling him in his arms just long enough to deposit him on the ledge as well, sighing and dropping down to the final level and reaching up to repeat the process. He would surely be sore from the stunt but considered it better than having Dogmeat jump down the equivalent of two flights of stairs, setting him on the ground before collecting his bag and moving onwards, only pausing long enough to raid a nearby bin of all the packaged vault suits he could find within. The replacements would be greatly appreciated come laundry day. He stuffed the packages into his bag and slung it over his shoulder, creeping into the cafeteria where Nick was supposed to be held. Dogmeat let out a low growl when there was movement above them, a man prowling in front of what looked like a large office that was locked. He started his way up the stairs to maximize the time he had while he was still unnoticed, grabbing an empty beer bottle from the table on his way by. He’d never glassed someone before, but after serving multiple cases on bar fights gone wrong he was pretty sure he knew how it worked. Bottle smashed over the head, stab with the remaining bottle neck if needed.

“How ya feelin’ in there, Valentine? Getting hungry yet?” 

“You should be more worried about how you’re gonna be feeling in a few moments, Dino.” The voice was what brought him up short as he crawled up the last flight of stairs to the level where the guard was, utter nostalgia smacking him in the face as the same low nasally voice rang out from the office the guard was harassing, his heart thundering faster in his chest as he got closer.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that huh? You gonna break out and come and get me?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure if Malone’s got you scribbled down in that little black book of his then you should be more worried about him coming after you than me buddy.” That seemed to make the guard come up short, fear creeping into his voice as he paused in his nonchalant prowl. 

“What did you say?”

“I said you’re down in his book, Dino. I think you got the royal treatment of the triple cross out too, something about being a cheating card shark.” Dino gripped his hat in shock, scrambling for a moment to figure out what he was going to do now that he was apparently on the naughty list.

“Oh shit, I gotta-I gotta go make this right I- hey, who the hell let you in here?!” Nico huffed and threw the bottle at him, rushing to shoulder check him into the wall before he could draw his gun. The collision was unpleasant, but it did what he needed it to do, Dino hitting the wall and crumpling into a dazed heap. Nick seemed to take the interruption as a good sign, calling out from behind the glass as Nico hastily tied Dino’s hands behind his back and anchored him to the walkway railing.

“Look, I don’t know who you are but you’d better get me out of here fast before the others realize shit for brains isn’t coming back. He should have the password to the terminal on him somewhere.” True to his word Nico found the password written on a slip of paper in his breast pocket, entering it into the terminal as quickly as he could and furiously slamming the enter button to open the office doors. The sound of electric locks opening was never so sweet, Nico stepping inside and opening his mouth to speak but finding no words, Nick stepping into the light and throwing him for yet another loop. The man that was standing before him was not the Nick Valentine he knew, the wires and entire chunks of his face missing being the most glaring inconsistencies between who stood before him and who he knew before the war. The glowing yellow optics of his eyes were unsettlingly stark against the dim lighting of the room, ‘Nick’ lighting a cigarette and sighing as he took a long drag. How he was even breathing was a question Nico was very uncertain he should ask. 

“Well now, looks like my knight in shining armor has arrived. Question is why he felt the need to come all this way just to rescue me. If you are here to rescue me, that is.” 

“I-yes. I am. Please tell me you have a gun.”

“They weren’t smart enough to disarm me before they threw me in here. Not like I really hurt ‘em since the glass is bullet proof from the inside. Why’d you come looking for me anyway?” _Because you’re my best friend and I couldn’t sit by and let you get killed_

“It’s…complicated, but the shortest version is my son was kidnapped and I need help finding him.”

“Well, you came to the right man then, let’s get out of here then we can focus on your case.” Nico nodded and motioned for him to lead the way, letting Dogmeat take up the rear as they started picking their way towards the exit. Everything about this man screamed Nick Valentine, from his clothes to the way he walked, but it was so clearly not the real specimen that it made Nico’s head spin trying to figure out what was going on, the detective either not noticing his confusion or choosing not to notice it as they started down the first set of stairs. There were few signs of life in the residential hall beyond the odd discarded carton of food or a bottle of liquor sitting on one of the many storage crates from the construction company. What was strange about the lack of completion of this vault was the fact that Vault Tec had made a promise that all vaults would be completed by the summer of ’77, but there were shipping crates marked as shipped as late as October of ’77 sitting in the halls and bedrooms. Despite things being quiet neither of them talked for fear of alerting anyone, working through the vault as quickly and quietly as possible. Luckily the next few halls were blessedly empty of thugs as well, the stairwells far too dark for anything but careful navigating of the steps down into the final level of the vault. Nick crouched once they reached the next landing, pointing out the guards in the next room with a quiet growl. 

“Well…looks like we’re done with the sneaking bit…how do you want to handle this?”

“If I could just wave my fingers and make them all magically want to feed my dog and give him a bath I’d do it. But since magic isn’t an option I guess we’ll have to shoot our way through…”

“Alright then, your dog gonna make it through okay?”

“He’s done more killing than I have today.” With that he slid out of cover and shot at the first goon that came into view, hitting him in the shoulder. The room erupted into chaos moments later, Nick and Dogmeat leaping into action just as bullets started flying from the other side of the rec room. Having Nick along cut the time he spent fighting in half, the gang members crumbling much faster now that there was someone who knew what they were doing fighting them. There was a sneaking voice in the back of his mind that ‘helpfully’ supplied that he was on par with most mass murderers in terms of body count after a single day out at the park, his stomach churning slightly when he realized that he may have to kill more people to get to Shaun. He grimaced and pulled himself out of that train of thought before it got too deep, looking to Nick to distract himself.

“Who exactly were you searching for down here?” 

“Lady named Darla went missing and her folks got worried, sent me to go and track her down. Turns out their sweet daughter has a mean streak and joined up with Malone’s gang as a show of good faith in their…relationship. She’s a real piece of work.” 

“So what does that mean for the case? If she doesn’t want to be found then do you just leave her?”

“Well, if she doesn’t want to go home and decides to stay with Malone then the next duty of mine is to put down the threats to Diamond City since they’ve been roughing up security for a while now, her included if it comes to it. Kidnappers can’t just stay loose.” 

“Right…look if you need help talking her down I can try and help…I’ve got experience with it.”

“I’d prefer to have you on hand just in case, she didn’t want to listen to what I had to say the first time I spoke with her and she doesn’t seem the type to change her mind.” He grunted and looked at the next set of stairs in disappointment before starting up the staircase. “You’d think they’d put elevators in these things…”

“I can tell you right now they’d be under fire for failure to comply with disability regulations and facing a lawsuit for it if the prewar legal system was still intact…I might still file one just to be petty.”

“Looks like someone found an intact legal textbook. Where’d you find that?”

“It’s…a long story. Same one that involves my son, coincidentally enough.” Nick nodded and crossed over to the next door, pressing his ear to it for a moment before humming and getting to work on the lock.

“Fair enough, it sounds like the rest of Malone’s gang is on the other side so just follow my lead and don’t say anything out of hand…the nickname Skinny is a little ironic in this case, but don’t let his idiot face fool you, he’s still a piece of work.” 

“Lead on, Nick…” Once the door was open they were greeted by several guns pointed directly at the door, Skinny and Darla standing at the ready as they stepped into the main lobby of the vault. Skinny immediately went off on them, jabbing his gun at Nick accusingly while his girlfriend swung her bat lazily. She looked at home with the thugs behind her and a bright red slugger in her hands, but she definitely didn’t look pleased with her situation. Something to capitalize on if he needed to step in. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Valentine? First you come in trying to steal my girl, now you shoot up a bunch of my guys and still expect to walk free?”

“I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for your new date, Skinny. She ought to write home more often if she doesn’t want her parents thinking she’s been kidnapped.” Darla pouted, rolling her eyes at the theatrics.

“Aw Nicky, you still sour you got beat up by a girl? God, I knew we should have just killed him when we got the chance. But no, the good old days had to come and stop you from doing the smart thing and offing him before something like this happened.”

“Darla, darlin’, I’m handling this just fine on my own. I’ve always got things under control!”

“Care to explain how some bitch just waltzed into our vault, with a dog, and freed Valentine before you could get your guys together and stop them?” 

“Sweetheart just let me-“ Nico sighed, lowering his pistol and fixing Darla with his full attention.

“This isn’t going to go the way either of us want if we keep circle jerking around the idea that Malone has control of the situation alright? Darla, I want you to listen to me for just a moment, I promise it will be worth your while.” 

“What? No! Seriously Darla just-“

“Shut UP Skinny! Let the idiot try and dig himself out of this hole. I want to see what kind of stupid shit he’ll say.” 

“You and Skinny seem to have a pretty rocky relationship when it comes to whatever you two are sharing, right? Maybe not what you imagined it’d be like to sleep with a fake mobster?” The look he got from Skinny was the only verification he needed that that was indeed the case, pulling into the best courtroom attitude as he could while multiple machine guns were levelled at him. “Obviously right now you’re shopping in the section of the store that sells bad boys with big guns instead of guys who are going to live long enough to make you happy. I’ve done the same thing, it’s exciting, it’s fun, and it can be sexy. But it runs out fast when the guy you’re dating gets shot doing something stupid, like kidnapping a detective.”

“Get to the point, I’m getting bored.”

“Fine. What I’m saying is this really isn’t where you want to be, Darla. You’re a smart woman, you’re pretty. You could go for _anyone_ and they’d play ball, but if you stay here you’re going to waste away the good years following around a pudgy thirty-five-year-old who thinks he’s a gangster because his mom said so. Go home, you’ve got a family waiting for you, you have a home. That’s more than most people can even dream of. Don’t give that up just because of a little thrill that’ll end tomorrow.” She frowned but seemed to give what he had said some serious thought, Malone scrambling to pull her back from her thoughts by grabbing her wrist and waving his gun at Nick erratically. The fact his finger was on the trigger made Nico incredibly tense, but there was no errant volley of bullets, only his frantic voice as he tried to keep Darla on his side. 

“C’mon sweetheart, don’t listen to this fruit cake, you know I’ll always do good by you. Always!”

“I can’t Skinny, I’ve gotta get home. It’s been real stupid running around with you and I’m not gonna give up the good I’ve got left for what you’ve got. It’s not worth it. We’re done, Skinny.” 

“But Darla I-“

“No, I’m done. Don’t come calling.” With that she turned and left, brandishing her bat at anyone who tried to stop her. There was an intense moment of silence as the sound of her heels on the grates faded into nothing, Skinny watching her leave before whipping around and pointing his gun at Nico, pure rage spilling over. 

“Alright that’s it, I’ve had it with the both of you! First you cost me my men, now you cost me my girl? You aren’t leavin’ here alive.” Nico raised his hands slowly, biting down the urge to run before the trigger was pulled, Nick doing the same as he spoke. 

“Listen Skinny, she really wasn’t the girl for you either. Just let us go and we’ll be outta your hair for good.” 

“You seriously think I’m just gonna let you walk after what you’ve done?!”

“You won’t walk away from a fight with us and you know it.” That seemed to work, Malone hesitating before letting out a strangled yell of anger and pointing to the door, his face getting redder the longer he looked at them.

“Fucking FINE! You’ve got ten seconds to get out of my sight before I start shootin’!” Neither of them said another word, Nick hurrying down across the scaffolding with Nico and Dogmeat trailing behind him as they made their way to the nearest exit. By the time they had made it to the door at the top of the stairs Skinny was down to 3, the doors flying open and depositing them somewhere in the main city square. It was pitch black out, Nick’s eyes the only thing clearly visible in the dark as he slammed the doors shut and let out a long sigh of relief. 

“Well, that went about as smoothly as I thought it would. First things first, how’d you know to find me in that old vault?”

“Ellie sent me. I went to your office to talk to you about my case and she filled me in on the situation. Dogmeat did the rest of the work from there.” He dug into his pocket and produced the tie, handing it over to Nick carefully. “She seemed seriously worried so I came as fast as I could to get you.” 

“Ellie huh? I should give her a raise.” He lit a cigarette and sighed, stuffing the tie into his coat pocket. “Alright, let’s get back to the city, then we can sit down to chat about your case. Do you want to go on ahead or stick with me?”

“I’ll stick with you. Too much of a chance I’ll get lost otherwise.” Nick nodded and started off down the street, Dogmeat trailing close behind him and sniffing at his coat curiously. 

“New to the Commonwealth then?”

“New to the Commonwealth, not new to Boston. I’ve lived here most of my life but I never got around to learning how to navigate very well.” 

“The rubble can make it hard, so I understand that. A few more months out here and you’ll start picking up on it I’m sure. Probably faster, depending on how far we’ve got to go to find your son.” 

“Right…we’ll see how my internal compass responds to that I guess.”

“Not confident you’ll get accustomed to the landscape?” Nico shook his head, pulling out the crumpled pack of cigarettes in his flannel breast pocket to grab one and light it, sighing as the stale tobacco hit his tongue like a wave. It was still soothing to smoke, but he didn’t want to think about the ramifications of smoking possibly irradiated tobacco. 

“I’ve lived in Boston my entire life and I never could get farther than a few blocks before I’d get turned around and have to ask for directions."

“Where do you live that still has blocks?” He blew a mouthful of smoke away from Nick before answering, choosing his words carefully to avoid sounding crazy. Marcy had nearly punched him for fucking with her about where he’d come from, so it was best to tread lightly when talking about being pre-war. 

“Sanctuary Hills Suburb. It had blocks before the war. Still sort of does now, just overgrown and littered with burned out cars.” 

“Wait, before the bombs dropped? How’d you achieve that?”

“By getting involuntarily frozen in a vault. The science is way over my head but the best I can figure is that they put us in containment cells that somehow stopped the aging process entirely. Whatever Vault Tec did seems to have worked because I’m still here and there hasn’t been any side effects yet.” 

“Well damn, you got a pretty good deal then compared to some of the other vaults I’ve heard about.” 

“I can only imagine…are you pre-war as well?”

“I’m old, but not that old. I’ve got memories of before the war though, from the other guy named Nick. I’m guessing you recognized his name and figured you could trust him, right?”

“He…we were one of my best friends before the war. I was a lawyer with the Drumlin & Leighter Law Firm and we collaborated on several cases while he was here in Boston on a larger investigation. So when I heard you were in Diamond City I knew that you’d be my only shot at finding my son. He’d always been the best before the war and…I need the best to find him now.” 

“Drumlin & Leighter…that does sound familiar. Criminal defense lawyers, right?” A small spark of hope lit up in his chest when Nick responded, a small smile crawling onto his face as they finally made it to the cleared section of road leading up to Diamond City.

“That’s what we were on paper. Realistically we were handling more civil suit cases because so many people were filing for losses with the major energy companies. Not that anyone ever actually got paid.” He nodded, a loud whirring sound coming from his head for a moment as he processed the information, eyes flickering slightly before he was back and speaking as though nothing had happened. 

“Always takes me a second to sort through what I’ve got of ‘his’ memories, but D&L was definitely something to him. You said you two were friends?”

“I thought we were, it may have been different for him, I don’t know. He was someone I talked to a lot outside of work since the people at the firm weren’t really interested in associating with each other outside the office. Personal and professional split was very important to them.” Nick nodded and flicked his dead cigarette away, another series of clicks coming from what Nico assumed was his internal processor.

“I’ll have to do more digging when I get a spare moment, right now all I can pull is that your firm was something important in the past. Walking and doing a long-term memory root scan is almost impossible.”

“Don’t worry if you don’t find anything. His name is just the reason I came to you for help but beyond that you have no obligation to me other than helping me find my son.” Nico sighed and rubbed a hand over the haphazardly shaven crown of his head, already feeling the dirt and grease build up on his skin. So much for bathing on the regular. 

“It’d be like expecting a strange woman who had your wife’s liver transplanted after your wife’s death to marry you because of that one part of ‘her’ that’s still alive. She may have a part of your wife in her, but she is not that woman and never will be, so why expect it of her?” 

“An interesting stance to take on the situation, all things considered.”

“That’s the only way I can think to describe it, really.”

“And the servos didn’t give you pause?”

“They did but not because they make me distrust you. I’m just getting used to all the new brands of people. Ghouls threw me harder than you did…literally in one case.” 

“Yeah…ghouls are a real nasty side of radiation that’s for sure. The ones that are still sentient aren’t half bad, they just get the short end of the straw most of the time.”

“I haven’t seen many around…are they rare?”

“No, they stick to Goodneighbor and their own little settlements when they can, there’s a lot of people who don’t tolerate them because of what they eventually become.” There was something about his tone that betrayed the intolerance was a little deeper than simple dislike, but the discussion was stalled as they made it to the gates. The guards gave Nick a set of awkward waves as he entered, either uncomfortable with his presence or unsure about his current travel companion, but they did not stop him or Nico from climbing up the stairs to the entrance of the city. It was much quieter in the dead of night, though the sound of a single Mr. Handy yelling from across the marketplace broke the peace intermittently they started the final leg of the journey. It seemed this city never slept either, though with a great deal fewer flashing lights. He stubbed out his cigarette and stuffed it in his pocket for later, placing a steady hand on Dogmeat’s head as Nick unlocked the door to his office and let them inside. It was quite the surprise that Ellie was still awake, the faithful assistant whipping around the moment the door opened and leaping towards Nick for a hug he barely received in time to avoid being knocked over. 

“Nick! I swear if you ever pull a stunt like this again-“

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

“You were missing for four days! I have every right to worry about you!” Nick sighed and relented, letting Ellie do a quick once over of his person to make sure nothing was missing before she turned on Nico with an exuberant smile. “You really came through, thank you. And yes, I know that you’re mostly doing this so we’ll handle your case, but the fact you went to go and get him still means a lot.”

“It’s not really my style to wait around for someone to save themselves from a kidnapping.”

“You and Nick have the same style then. Maybe I should hire you to tag along with him on cases so he doesn’t get caught in another situation like this.” Nick sighed and pulled off his trench coat, hanging it up before grabbing a folder from one of the filing cabinets and starting to fill it with the necessary paperwork. 

“Don’t go getting ahead of yourself Ellie, we’ve got his case first, then you can think about sticking a baby sitter on me.” 

“Fine, just think about it alright?” Nico gave her an awkward nod and let her get back to work, searching for Dogmeat only to find him sitting faithfully by the door wagging his tail. He was a mysteriously well trained dog, but one that Nico appreciated greatly. He sighed and set his bag on the ground near the desk, folding his coat over the top as he sat in the chair facing Nick’s, chuckling when the folder was placed in front of him with a pen. An old-style police report, of course. 

“Where’d you find one of these?” Nick settled into his seat and pulled up his own files, sighing.

“Cambridge police department, there was a whole stack of them in there and I got Piper to make a reprint of them. More organized than just writing things down on paper and filing them.” 

“Want me to start filling it in?”

“Go right ahead; Ellie, could you grab the stack of kidnapping files? We’ll want to check and see if his case fits any of the other ones.” She nodded and went to retrieve the files in question, Nico filling in his information with a heavy cloud of nostalgia hanging over his head. He’d filled out so many of these files for cases it was entirely possible he could do them in his sleep now, but he had never done one as a victim before. Once he had put in his information he handed the report over to Nick, who scanned it once as he started speaking. 

“With cases like these it’s usually best to get all the details out at the start so we can build on what’s left. So I’m going to need you to tell me what happened when your son disappeared in the greatest detail you can. You don’t need to rush into it, things like this can be painful…but in order for us to move forward you’ll need to think about what happened without shying away from the memories.” He grabbed a pen from the coffee cup on his desk, sliding a rubber grip onto it so he could hold it in his metal hand as he settled in to start taking notes, Nico shifting to get more comfortable in his chair. “Where did the kidnapping take place?”

“The Vault. Vault 111 in Sanctuary Hills…there was a breach I think, I remember waking up and still being in the pod when…when two people came into the vault and started searching the pods.” 

“Did they open the pods?”

“No, they just…they just looked into the little window on the front. They…I think they were specifically looking for my son, because when they found him they opened the pod to grab him. No one else was let out.” 

“Was he with you?”

“No…my…my husband was the one who had grabbed him from the crib when we ran to the vault and they just…they put him inside with my husband for ‘decontamination’. He was crying when they opened the pod…so he was at least alive when they found him.”

“That’s a good sign at least. Was your husband awake when they took him or was he still coming around from stasis?”

“He was…he was awake. He was having trouble breathing though, it sounded like he had aspirated water. When they tried to take Shaun he…he held onto him and told them that he’d take care of him on his own. They…” He grimaced and took a breath in, swallowing down on the lump in his throat. “The woman in the hazmat suit tried pulling Shaun away again and he got angry, so the one protecting her shot him in the head…” Nick nodded, making a few notes with a quiet sigh, both he and Ellie sharing the same heavily sympathetic look. 

“Sounds like we’re dealing with cold hearted killers…but they didn’t resort to violence until something went wrong, which means they wanted to keep the rest of you alive if possible. Even more important is the fact that you and the rest of those Vault dwellers were locked in a secure facility deep underground, so finding you was no accident. A lot of work to get to a child. How old was your son when this happened?”

“He…no more than a few months old. He was just an infant. I don’t know why they’d take him…he wasn’t even off breast milk yet.”

“That’s a very good question. Taking an infant is taking on a huge responsibility, especially in a wasteland where a bad gust of air could kill him…you said there were only two people who came into the vault?”

“Yes. A man and a woman, the woman was in some kind of environment suit…but the man wasn’t. After they…after they shot my husband they closed the pod and left but…the man stayed behind long enough to mention something about a backup…he was looking right at me when he said it.”

“Small team…and at least one of them was smart enough to cover up their face. You being a backup must mean something but…I’m not sure what. What this does confirm is that the people who took your son had an agenda in doing it, this was no random act. There are a couple of groups of people in the Commonwealth who take people for their own devices. We’ve got raiders, Super Mutants, the Gunners, and, the big shadow fiend, the Institute. Of those I think we can safely rule out Super Mutants as suspects since…well they’re big and green and you didn’t say anything about seeing those monstrosities in the vault.” He hummed and looked over one of the files Ellie had brought over, frowning. “Gunners are a possibility but they’re usually only guns for hire. They’ll do jobs no matter how dirty, but in this case, I don’t think they’re the ones who wanted your son. They may have been used to get him though. Same with raiders, but they’re a lot less organized and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a raider use a hazmat suit before.” 

“What about the Institute…? Who are they?”

“They’re effectively the boogeymen of the Commonwealth, if something goes wrong they’re usually to blame. And kidnappings…well they’re well known for kidnapping people and replacing them with synths in the dead of night. Models like me aren’t the issue, it’s the ones with that look, and biologically are, human that scare people. Anyone could be a synth, anyone could suddenly get an order to pull a gun and massacre the Diamond City marketplace tomorrow. And nobody knows why they do it, what the plan is, or even where they are.”

“But they do exist if there are products of their work all over the Commonwealth…”

“Yes. Problem is none of us synths know anything about them either. Some kind of failsafe or memory wipe happens when synths are tossed out or escape, makes it impossible for us to recall where we came from, how we got out, and who is involved with building us in the first place. Believe me, I’ve tried, but nothing has worked.” Nick dug into his pocket to find his cigarettes and lit one, sighing. “But speculating is getting us off track. You said the man wasn’t wearing a hazmat suit, so that means his face and clothes were exposed. Can you tell me what you remember of him?”

“He…he had a large handgun. It was loud, I could feel the gunshot vibrate in the door of my pod. His voice was rough, sounded like he was a heavy smoker…but not much of an accent. Nothing from Boston or New York, not Texas even, just…middle of the line.”

“So nothing heavy in his voice to indicate where he’s from…but a rough and commanding voice can get you pretty far in the business of violence. Can you remember what he looked like?”

“He…he was balding, and there was a large scar down his left eye. It looked deep, but he didn’t seem blinded in that eye at all.”

“Wait a second…you didn’t hear the name Kellogg at all, did you?”

“No. I didn’t. Do you think he has Shaun?”

“It’s way too big of a coincidence for him not to be a suspect…Ellie, where’d I put the Kellogg case file?” She frowned and turned to search through one of the filing cabinets, eventually producing a very large file with papers fitting to explode from their folder. It was an older file, and it had been pulled out many a time. 

“Here. Now that I think about it the description matches what we’ve heard on him before. Balding with a scar, does heavy duty mercenary work but no one can seem to get in contact with him except for whoever keeps hiring him out to do their dirty work.” Nick nodded and flipped through the file quickly, pulling out various papers and scanning them for details. 

“This’ll take some time to figure out where to find him, but at least we’ve got a lead. What I’ll have to do is start asking around about him and see if anyone has seen him recently…that may take a while. Are you alright staying here in Diamond City until we get word back?” 

“I can stay but I don’t think I have enough money to put myself anywhere for more than a week.”

“I’ll set up a bed here, that way you’ll have somewhere to sleep at least.”

“I appreciate it…thank you.” He nodded and smiled, clipping Nico’s case notes to a clipboard and setting it on his desk on top of the Kellogg file. 

“It’s the least I can do for you dragging my ass out of the vault. I think we’re done for tonight, you need to get some rest and Ellie needs to get home.” Ellie nodded and set her papers down, going to find her things while Nick led Nico over to where he would sleep. There was a bed tucked in the corner under the stairs alongside a nightstand and footlocker. It was small, but it would do wonders compared to where he had been sleeping the past few nights. Once Ellie had bid them goodnight and left for her own home Nick locked the door and put out most of the lights, settling in at his desk to finish up his previous case file while Nico got ready for bed, silence stretching in the office as he stuffed his clothes into his bag and slumped into the bed wearing just the vault suit. It was the only thing that functioned as pajamas for him nowadays. Dogmeat was immediately curled into his side the moment he lay down, taking up a good portion of the bed and leaving Nico pressed against the wall with little wiggle room. He didn't mind the company though, shifting to give himself some breathing room before pulling the blankets over the both of them with a small groan. It didn’t take long for him to succumb to exhaustion, the last of his energy going to pulling the covers a little higher before he drifted off with his face smothered in dog fur.


	8. Hurdles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning this chapter will have some mis-gendering in it and talk of surgery, so if you are uncomfortable with that be wary.

It took a total of two days before Nico asked to help Nick with the investigation. The first day following the rescue had been spent sorting through his supplies, doing a quick clean of the office while Ellie was out handling personal business, and then wandering around Diamond City with Dogmeat to explore what all the city had to offer. It was much smaller than he had originally anticipated, but that made it much easier to navigate and much harder to get lost in, so he was grateful. He had come across the home of Diamond City Radio entirely by accident, but took the opportunity to use one of the ham radios within to put out a call to Preston and let him know that he was in the City waiting on updates on Shaun’s whereabouts. The Minuteman sounded pleased that he was making progress, but seemed more preoccupied with keeping everyone else at Sanctuary happy while they finished building up the main house. So many different needs all needing to be met at the same time. Day two was spent fidgeting in the office and chatting with Ellie while desperately doing anything to keep himself busy and out of trouble, Dogmeat getting quite the pampering as a result. A full coat brushing and a long session of head scratches just for being close in proximity to Nico’s fidgeting hands, something he capitalized on multiple times that day while they lounged around the office. When he finally asked Nick to help it seemed he had been waiting to be asked since the start, simply grinning and giving him a list of people he had already questioned about Kellogg and leading him out the door to start their search. The list was surprisingly short, but Nico learned why the moment he tried asking questions himself. No one was willing to talk, always having something to do or somewhere to be that made it impossible to sit down for just a moment to confirm whether they had seen Kellogg or not. It was frustrating to say the least, and infuriating at worst. By noon on his first day with Nick it was apparent a lot of his job was done standing and waiting for people to free up their time to talk. Not the glorious private eye life he had been fooled to believe detective work was before the war. Nico sighed and flicked ash off his cigarette before taking another drag, leaning against the side wall of the All Faiths Chapel while they waited for the sermon to finish. 

“Not as glamorous as you thought huh?”

“Not at all. I knew it was a lot of leg work but I didn’t think people would be so…unwilling to help.” Nick nodded, giving a small nod to the security guard that walked by them on his patrol. There was a quick look of discomfort before the guard responded and went on his way, trying to seem less tense than he was. 

“That’s the difficult part of missing person’s cases, it used to be that people were afraid of getting implicated, now they’re too afraid to speak up because the Institute might grab them next. Doesn’t help that a synth is the one asking questions too.” 

“Seems odd they would mistrust you when you’re the one who got thrown out.”

“Yeah, but for all they know I could be reporting back in, making a list of all the good candidates for replacement. I could even be a sleeper agent and no one would be the wiser. That’s the tricky thing with robots, you can reprogram them at any time and there’s not much they can do to argue.” 

“I guess you’re right…it’s just…so odd seeing blanket mistrust based on looks alone.” 

“Didn’t the same thing happen before the bombs dropped?” Nico sighed, blowing out a mouthful of smoke with a frown. Of course it had, anyone who was a self-respecting Grade-A American had the same sentiment that the Chinese were threats, anyone who looked Chinese automatically fit the bill of a Red Soldier. The Tong family that had lived down the street from them was taken away months before Nate had gotten back home from his second tour, apparently sent to some internment camp in the Mojave. No one had said a word, just silently put up a For Sale sign in the lawn and went on to pretend there hadn’t been an incredibly talented pair of engineers living at the end of the cul-de-sac with their 6-year-old daughter. 

“It did…there was no excuse for it then either.” 

“No, there wasn’t. But you understand the context of the fear because you’ve lived it. What you’re missing now is context, you haven’t lived in fear of the Institute yet, haven’t woken up thinking your wife or husband or brother might be gone and replaced by a killing machine, or worse, waking up and seeing your own face staring back at you holding a gun. People are afraid and they’re protecting themselves. I can’t blame them for that, all I can do is try to do my best to help them and show them I’m not a bad egg.” 

“But even after all the work you’ve done they still refuse to think you’re reliable. They still scoot out of the way when you’re walking so they don’t touch you.”

“I’ve gotten used to that part. It used to sting, especially after my face started falling to bits, but I’ve had to grow out of wishing they’d see me as human. Because I’m not human, I may act like I am but at the end of the day I’m metal and tubes with a bunch of fancy wiring, so instead of trying to convince people I’m like them I’ve focused on changing how they see the metal and tubes.”

“Do you think it’ll ever work?”

“If I’m honest, no. But that won’t stop me from doing the right thing and helping the ungrateful bastards.” He smiled and turned to watch people file out of the makeshift chapel, Pastor Clements smiling softly when he saw Nick outside. 

“Nick Valentine, finally taking me up on the offer for a sermon?”

“Not this time I’m afraid, I’m here on business actually. Do you have time to talk?”

“Of course, just be sure to put out your cigarettes before entering please.” Nico stubbed out his cigarette before following Nick inside, looking around the chapel as the pastor cleaned up his podium from that afternoon’s service. “So, what can I help you with this time?”

“Well we’re looking for a man who goes by the name Kellogg, mean looking fellow who’s balding and got a scar on the left side of his face. A little on the paler side.”

“Mm I haven’t seen anyone like that around, but I tend to stay indoors managing services most days. Husband run away from home?” Nico jerked out of his examination of the prayer bead assortment on the wall and shook his head, giving the pastor a wan smile when he caught the not so subtle scan of his body for identifiers. Whether Nick noticed how he shifted his stance to widen it was up in the air, but the detective remained silent on whatever he saw, letting the pastor round the pedestal to approach him. 

“No. I just have some questions for him.” The pastor simply nodded and smiled sympathetically, folding his hands in front of himself. 

“Well, I hope you find the answers you’re looking for. If you need a quiet place to think the chapel is open every day and we offer services for all practices.” He nodded, Nick humming in thought for a moment before speaking.

“I’d appreciate if you kept an eye out for him just in case, it’s pretty important we get a bead on him soon.” 

“Of course, I’ll make sure to watch for him.”

“Alright, then we can get out of your hair, have a good day Clements.” He smiled and nodded, giving a small wave to them as they stepped out of the chapel. 

“You too Nick, ma’am.” It was like having ice water dumped down the back of his shirt, and he was sure Nick caught the way he flinched in response, but he couldn’t do much more than give the pastor a stiff nod in acknowledgment and a strained smile. Nico held the door for Nick before following him out and pointedly ignoring the questioning look the detective gave him as the door shut behind them, adjusting the front of his shirt to fix any wrinkles that had accumulated. He didn’t want to deal with correcting someone, there was too much of a risk that things would go badly if he did. And it had been an honest mistake on the Pastor’s part, he’d been standing wrong, his shirt was too tight across his chest, and his nails were getting too long, there was no reason to cause a scene. He could handle the sucker punched feeling in his stomach, even if it burned through him like acid. 

 

Day eight of the search was no better than day one. Each morning was spent reading through case files trying to find links in old cases or leads in new ones while the afternoons were spent desperately trying to get people to talk with them. The most eventful part of their search so far had been the woman at Diamond City Surplus throwing a wrench at him for having the audacity to approach her with Nick nearby. He was lucky the tool didn’t connect, but the scene Security made out of it was more than damaging since they felt the need to drag him away from the lady tending the store while loudly calling him ‘ma’am’ in an attempt to calm everyone down. De-escalation was obviously not their strong suit, but their ham-handed tactics worked in a roundabout sort of way. Nico liked to think it was only because he was stuck in the awful position of either defending himself and being outed in front of multiple onlookers or submitting and confirming he was, at least visually, a woman in front of the crowd that dropped the situation out of a potential fight in the street. And, being the coward he was, he chose the second option, awkwardly apologizing to the guards and making his escape before the shop owner could throw anything else at him or Nick in retaliation. Upon Nick’s suggestion they had gone to the Upper Stands to avoid any more conflict for the afternoon, their current objective being waiting for the patrons of the café to finish their meals before even dreaming of speaking to any of them. It seemed classism had persisted out of all the things that could have survived the nuclear apocalypse. Nick sighed and finally came around from his registry scan, doing a quick look around to make sure he was still where he had started before settling back against the bench they were sitting on. 

“I miss anything?”

“Nope, find anything useful during the scan?” He shook his head and glanced up at the distant sound of thunder, the dark clouds that had been hanging near the outskirts of the City slowly moving their way over the baseball diamond. 

“Bits and pieces of information, been trying to put your case up against some other ones that I have lying in the cold case bin but nothing jumped out at me. Kellogg is a slippery bastard and anything he’s been implicated on usually comes back empty so it’s hard to find anything solid on him. This case is looking to be a long one.”

“I’ll pay for the extra time once we find Kellogg…I’m sure I’ll have enough to cover the expenses.”

“My fees aren’t that high, so don’t go selling any body parts just to make ends meet…” He chuckled dryly but quickly sobered, fixing his full attention on Nico once he fished out a cigarette from his coat pocket. “Since we’re on the topic of Kellogg…do you have a plan regarding how you’re gonna handle it when we find him?” Nico couldn’t find the words to respond to his question, his heart screeching to a halt when he realized he hadn’t even considered what he _could_ do to Kellogg. What he _wanted_ to do to Kellogg. His stomach churned uneasily, Nick seeming to catch his train of thought and nodding to himself, seeming to confirm a suspicion he must have been harboring. He, thankfully, lowered his voice before responding, resting his elbows on his thighs.

“I’m no stranger to Commonwealth justice and if anyone deserves a healthy dose if it it would be him, just give me the word on whether you want me to tag along when we finally figure out where he is hiding.”

“I…I appreciate it Nick.” He nodded, glancing up as Wellingham finally floated over to address them, all three eyestalks bobbing with utter disinterest.

“Something I can help you with?” His tone wasn’t much kinder than his attitude, Nick standing and flicking ash off his cigarette quickly. 

“Got time for a few questions?” The Mr. Handy let out a long-suffering sigh but bobbed his eyestalks in confirmation, waving an arm lazily.

“It depends on your questions and whether you’ll be bothering the other patrons with your…nonsense. Our establishment isn’t one to be loitered in, or around.” Nico offered a small smile in apology, though the expression did little to alter Wellingham’s ever imperious mood.

“We’re just wondering if you might have seen someone, a man about my height, balding, and with a scar on the left side of his face.”

“Mm no. We do not typically serve people like that in the Upper Stands. Have you tried asking around below, ma’am? It seems like you would have better luck consorting with people more inclined to deal with such hooligans.” His words had the bite of a man with a very short fuse who knew how to cut deep with little effort, Nico smiling through the acid burning his stomach and bearing down on the urge to correct the bot. The more instances like this he endured the surer he was that any return trips to Diamond City would not be long term ones. 

“It’s best to work all angles in cases like these, and he’s a resourceful man. He might have covered up the scar to come up here and blend in. Do you remember anyone who had a particularly rough voice? Maybe smoked a little too much during their meal?” The Mr. Handy sighed and motioned to the patio turned dining area, his claw snapping shut quickly. He was getting more agitated with each question, but his basic service protocols were keeping him from walking, or floating, out on them immediately. 

“Everyone here smokes ma’am, I’d be out of available memory banks were I to record every instance of a man smoking during his meal.” Nick stepped in before he could respond, coming to the same conclusion Nico was about their chances of getting any answers from him.

“Would it be alright if we asked the rest of the customers the same thing? We’ll be out of your hair right after.” Wellingham grumbled and took an inordinate amount of time thinking before letting out a small groan and bobbing his eyes in affirmation. 

“You may ask the patrons here and in the bar, but please refrain from pushing or causing too much noise.” With that he floated away and began collecting the trays off the tables, humming a disjointed tune as he did so. Nick sighed and tossed out his spent cigarette before scribbling down Wellingham on his list of people they’d questioned, making a quick note that he too had no idea who the hell Kellogg was. They shared a mutual look of frustration before bearing down and starting to question the other patrons, each one taking less than a few minutes but all returning the same results. No idea who they were talking about, never seen anyone like him before, please leave us wonderful Upper Stands folk out of your dirty dirty missing person’s case ma’am. It was a fucking nightmare. He wanted to grab the last one they spoke to by the throat and practically scream at him just to release the pent-up discomfort and frustration he felt. But he remained calm, pulled on the rusty mask of mildness he had stuffed in his metaphorical back pocket, and rolled with the waves as they hit him. It didn’t matter that it felt like he was drowning. By the end of the final round of questioning both he and Nick were exhausted mentally, deciding to call it off and return to the office to reconsider their angles before they wasted another day butting their heads up against the metaphorical wall they’d run into. Dinner came in the form of yet another noodle bowl and a bottle of water, Nick settling on another cigarette as he re-read one of his old casefiles, still not broaching the topic of ‘why they keep calling you a woman’ despite his intermittent looks up from his reports. It was quiet save for the radio spewing classical tunes into the open air and Dogmeat’s occasional yawn as he lounged on the bed. There was a kind of tranquility that surrounded the office that was slowly dragging him into a haze as he dug around in his bowl for the last of the brahmin meat, and in that haze he found it easier to ignore the fact it was becoming harder and harder to breathe. 

 

Day fourteen was when he finally fucked up. He had been wandering around near the radio station when he met the owner of the water purification machine and, stupidly, accepted the job to help clean out the water supply. The kid, Sheng, was smart; he’d paid half of his offer up front and made sure that his Pip Boy and clothes were safe while he swam around in the water with just his vault suit on searching for the litter that had been mentioned. At first the job had seemed easy considering the water supply was relatively shallow, but before he had realized it three hours of swimming and dragging bags of trash out of the water had passed. He was sore, tired, and waterlogged, but the pain didn’t start until he had pulled himself onto the walkway and promptly felt a pop on his right side. The fact he was holding a human skull in one hand no longer mattered, fiery pain shooting through his chest as he crawled onto the walkway and gripped his side. The pressure didn’t help, but it stopped his arm from spasming violently while Sheng watched him with legitimate concern. 

“You alright mister?”

“Just…pulled something is all…care to explain the skull?” The kid immediately closed off, kicking at the walkway and avoiding his gaze as he dragged himself to his feet.

“I dunno, I’ve sent other people down to clean out the water before so maybe one of them got caught in the water pump. It’d explain the sludge I’ve been cleaning out of the filter.”

“Sheng…if you’re selling water with decomposing human in it…”

“My filters are perfect; nothing could get through them!” Nico waved him down, wincing when he pulled on the muscles to move more than a few inches. It hurt to breathe, but he did any way, hoping that he didn’t have the immense misfortune of coughing.

“Alright, alright, I’m not accusing you of anything. Just be more careful okay?”

“Fine…” He nodded and 

“Mind if I get dressed inside...?”

“Sure, go right ahead. I’ll have the rest of your caps when you’re done.” Nico collected his things and dragged them into the shack Sheng had made his home, shutting the door and immediately doubling over with a low groan. The movement did not help his situation at all, but he was able to move his right arm enough to unzip the vault suit and strip out of it with only a little bit of a struggle. Upon a cursory check of his side it was clear he had pulled something, but what he could not tell, instead focusing on getting dressed and making sure everything was in its place before clipping his Pip Boy to his arm and waddling out of the shack. Sheng handed him another baggie of caps and a free water for his trouble, smiling widely as he motioned to his stack of goods.

“Want to browse before you head off? I’m sure I have something you need.” 

“I think I’m good for now kiddo…maybe try the traders that just rolled in, I’m betting they’ll want some water for the road.” He nodded, smile tightening slightly when he realized he couldn’t talk some of the caps he had given away back into his own pocket. 

“Alright, thanks for the help mister.” Nico gave him a tired smile and started back towards Nick’s office, opting to walk slowly to subvert the pain that was slowly starting to engulf the entirety of his right side. By the time he had made it to the alley where Nick’s office was he couldn’t manage to remain upright any longer, nor breathe in any way but sharp gasps that moved his lungs as little as possible. He needed to find a doctor, but the prospect of a physical examination was…revolting. He hadn’t even looked at himself in the past few weeks, just slapped on a new vault suit and threw on as many layers as he could excuse to cover any identifiable curves. And none of it had done a lick of difference. He took in a sharp breath and nearly collapsed in pain, fighting back the urge to scream as he pulled himself upright. He couldn’t find Shaun like this. There was no way in hell he could fight in this condition, much less do his son any good. He needed to get this fixed, and fast. And that meant seeing a doctor even if every part of himself screamed that he shouldn’t. Nico bit down on the inside of his cheek and started walking again, making it to the medical stand near the entrance of the city in just under ten minutes. A good time, considering he’d nearly fallen twice. Doctor Sun sighed as he approached, brushing off his hands on his lab coat carefully as he abandoned the stimpaks he was marking for sale. 

“Something I can help you with?”

“I think I may have pulled something, it’s…making it difficult to breathe.” He frowned and did a quick visual check before grabbing his keys and motioning to the door next to the stand, leading Nico down into the basement/examination room where a single chair sat in the center of many a dried bloodstain. It was not a reassuring sight, but he ignored his misgivings and sat as Sun dug around for the supplies he needed. 

“When did you notice the pain?”

“Fifteen minutes ago. I was helping clear out the water supply and pulled myself onto the walkway, I felt something pop and it’s been painful ever since, I can barely breathe without something hurting.” He hummed and helped remove Nico’s jacket before carefully palpitating his sides with his hands, pausing when he found the problem spot right below his bindings. There was a moment of panic when Sun lingered on the binding for a bit too long, but nothing came of it, his examination continuing along both sides carefully. It hurt like a bitch when he pressed against the spot again, Nico holding back a low grunt of pain.

“Have you been taking off your bindings when you go to bed?”

“I’m sorry?” He sat back on his heels to motion to his own chest, Nico finally catching what he was meaning as he stood and moved back to his desk. 

“The wraps, have you been taking them off regularly?” 

“Ah…no.”

“That is the other source of your trouble then, keeping tight wrappings on for too long can cause a great deal of damage if you aren’t careful.” He returned with his own chair and settled across from Nico, motioning for him to sit up. “What are you using to bind?”

“…duct tape and compression bandages.” Sun let out a slow breath and rubbed his temples for a moment, fixing Nico with a tired look. 

“Do you want to suffocate yourself?”

“I…I wasn’t aware that was a possibility.”

“The compression bandages are designed to keep muscles in place to avoid further strain, adding duct tape only adds to the pressure on your ribs and will squeeze the air out of your lungs with every breath you take. If you want to recover you will need to remove them and keep them off for an extended period as well as wear loose fitting clothes to allow yourself to breathe. What I will do is administer a gentle pain killer and provide you with regular anti-inflammatory shots so that your ribs have time to heal. From there you will need to find something new to keep everything in place, another instance like this may cause an actual break, or worse, a collapsed lung. Fallon’s basement has a small collection of undergarments you could buy if you are hurting for clothing.” Nico grimaced at his recommendation, sitting back with a small groan of pain. 

“Are there any other options? Anything else I could use?” The doctor looked at him for a long moment before sitting back and sighing, crossing his arms.

“Are you doing this out of a lack of clothing or out of preference?”

“…necessity for comfort and peace of mind.” Sun nodded and seemed to back down from his frustration, instead settling back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“In total…about three years. But there was a large gap in between then and when I restarted. Most recently only five months.” He nodded and sat quietly in thought for a moment before sighing. 

“There is another option open to you, but it would be 100 caps and an eight-week recovery time. Travelling for long distances would be out of the question for that time, and even after recovery you’d need to be careful with lifting things for at least a good five months. If you are completely certain I can get you an appointment with my associate, Doctor Crocker. I know his name is not…comforting but he has a steady hand and he would be able to remove the excess without much risk of complication.” Nico sat in silence for a long while, doing a quiet calculation of his finances and the time it would take to recover from a major surgery compared to what he would be required to do with Nick for the investigation. At most they may need to do light jogging and stair climbing, but there would be little physical obligation if Nick knew he was recovering. And the offer Sun was making to him would eliminate the need to worry about further injury, making it that much easier to find Shaun if he was unhindered by self-inflicted wounds. And he wouldn’t have to hide around Nick or the others at Sanctuary, at least not when getting dressed.

“What all would I need to do to get an appointment…?”

“You’d just need to fill out a form and I’ll hand it to Crocker when he comes in this evening for his shift. He should have an answer to me by tomorrow morning.”

“Payment up front?”

“Yes.” He sighed and immediately regretted it, grimacing and nodding, feeling as though he had just released the rope on a guillotine primed for his neck. It was for Shaun, and if it meant passing a little easier he would do it.

“Alright…I’ll fill out the form once we’re done here. I should have enough to pay you now if you need.” Sun nodded and stood to collect a small tray of equipment, sighing.

“I’ll add this service cost to the total, you can pay Crocker when you go in for the procedure. For now, you will need to go without binding so your side can work out the inflammation.” He set the small tray on his seat and motioned to Nico’s shirt. “Go ahead and unbutton it, we’ll go one side at a time.” To his credit Sun seemed sympathetic and didn’t rush the process, letting Nico wiggle out of one sleeve of his shirt before starting to scrub at the duct tape with rubbing alcohol. The process was slow, but the tape came free with a relative lack of pain and once the compression was released a large portion of his discomfort faded as his ability to breathe returned. Once Sun had finished removing the wraps he used a stimpak to move the recovery along, letting Nico get dressed as he cleaned up and grabbed the sheet he would need to fill out. 

“Do you have any allergies or use any chems?”

“Only seasonal, and no.” He nodded and handed over a clipboard, letting Nico fill in his name and current address before scribbling in the reason for an appointment, signing it quickly.

“The total will be 150 caps for the procedure and the services I’ve rendered today. I’d suggest coming back to see me tomorrow for news and so you can update me on your side.” Nico nodded and wiggled into his coat carefully, following him out of the basement once Sun had completed his side of the form. He wasn’t sure whether he had made the right decision, but it was one that was necessary if he wanted to move forward with as few road blocks as possible. He had promised day one that everything he had would go towards finding Shaun, and that would not change no matter what. 

Anything for Shaun.


	9. Goodneighbor

As it turned out surgery in a converted cellar was about as safe as anything else in the Commonwealth. The risk almost definitely outweighed the reward in every scenario. He counted his blessings that at least Crocker apparently had the wherewithal to wash his tools and wear gloves during the operation, but the mile-wide smile that had greeted him after he had woken up was not at all a sight he ever wished to see again. Heart lurching bedside manner aside, the whole morning had been smooth from start to finish, his post-op time consisting of a stimpak to the chest and a bottle of water before he was ushered out of the way for the next patient in line with his instructions for a ‘flawless’ recovery. Nick had been kind enough to walk him back to the office afterwards and keep an eye on him while the Med-X and sedatives wore off, never asking any questions but always seeming to be on hand whenever he was needed, even without prompting. But after six weeks of nothing but sitting and reading case files while the world turned around him he was beginning to get antsy. There were no leads, even after Nick had gone out to Bunker Hill and Goodneighbor to ask around and he had been confined to reading through hundreds of notes and misfortunes with Ellie as his company. He held no ill will against her, in fact he quite liked her, but staying cooped up in the office with nothing but daily stimpak injections to keep him on his toes was beginning to wear very thin. His mother had always held by the mentality that no news was good news, but no news now was beginning to look like a dead end, and dead ends were not what he needed. On a whim, he had gone to McDonough’s office to see if he could get anything from the Mayor himself, but security apparently had gotten word he was still searching and had gone as far as to ask him to stop harassing people about his case before sending him out with nothing but a warning notice on his behavior. It was not comforting, but he had at least gotten sympathy from Piper who had been thrown out not half an hour earlier. Sympathy, as he found out shortly after, was a service that required compensation for, his payment coming in the form of the interview that she had wanted from the start. Most of the questions were harmless, and she’d given him a Nuka Cherry for his time, but her final question stuck with him afterwards. What was he going to do now? The answer was deceptively easy, he was going to keep searching and asking for answers until he found them, but that didn’t encompass how he was going to deal with the situation once he got the answers he was looking for. There was no longer a legal system to subject the perpetrator to, and if the perpetrator was, in fact, the Institute and not just Kellogg then he would have to fight an entire shadow entity for custody of his son. And that fight was, undeniably, going to be bloody. He would need support, people to help him present a real threat to the Institute so they could not ignore him. As it stood now he was no one, he had nothing but a few shitty guns and barely enough clothing to constitute winter wear. The only way to change that, as far as he could see, was to get Preston on board with rebuilding the Minutemen. It was a possibility, there were still Minutemen out there who had survived the collapse, it was just a matter of reuniting them and giving them something to fight for. From there he could challenge anyone for the right to have his son back, even if it meant going up against the boogeyman itself. It took some convincing for Nick to let him go back to Sanctuary to talk with Preston, but once Ellie had given him a way to call back to the office he was more or less comfortable with splitting up for the time being. 

Yet for all the confidence he had felt leaving Diamond City again it seemed he was still no better at navigating. It took all of three hours for him to get lost again, and by the time he had realized it the sun was already dipping below the horizon and he was desperately short on time to get somewhere safe. There was little point in trying to retrace his steps to go back to Diamond City now that he was helplessly turned around in the piles of debris that lined every road from the harbor to the hillsides, so he kept pushing forward in the hopes of finding a spot to hunker down for the night. This, as it turned out, was yet another mistake. One wrong turn and several misguided steps in the dark earned him the wondrous honor of faceplanting directly into a writhing mass of ghouls that had been relaxing in the street. The moment he hit the ground he knew he was in trouble, the ferals groaning as they reacted to the disturbance he had just created. His misfortune grew when the one he landed on decided he was deserving of a bite for his troubles, its grip on his shoulder unnervingly strong as it gasped for purchase and sank what teeth it had left into his bicep. Dogmeat was on them in an instant, barking and snarling as he dove for the one that had a hold on him and bit clean through its thigh, the other ferals screaming in anger. The sound alone was enough to make him panic, that gut wrenching howl of ruined throats sending a chill down his spine with such ferocity he wanted to cry. Nico scrambled back from where he had fallen and drew his pistol, pumping several bullets into the one that bit him before turning on the rest, trying and failing to get to his feet. The ghouls threw themselves at him with little warning, knocking him back into the pavement and grabbing at him looking for pieces to bite off. He felt teeth break skin on multiple occasions, even through his vault suit, but he fought them off as best he could with his fists and the butt of his gun, finally freeing himself from the horde and yanking Dogmeat away from the ghoul he had been tearing apart. There was no time to acknowledge the distant clicking of his Pip Boy, or the growing nausea that accompanied the pain engulfing his chest and arms. They needed to run, everything else could wait until they were safe. He didn’t need to yell any instruction, the tugging on his collar being enough to prompt Dogmeat to start sprinting in the opposite direction with his owner in tow, the two of them weaving through the alleys and streets as quickly as possible to lose the trail of the ghouls after them. By the time the screaming had stopped he was nowhere near anywhere that he recognized, but the faint light in the distance was the only hope he had of getting to shelter, so he kept pushing forward, slowing finally when he could no longer continue running. The lights from the signs on a makeshift wall were enough to illuminate the otherwise pitch black street, his head throbbing in time with his heart as he stopped and squinted at the letters. It was a bit tacky, but the lettering was at least legible from several meters away, a large arrow pointing to a door at the end of the street marking it as the entrance to Goodneighbor. The name immediately gave him pause, but the ever-growing ache of his wounds and a lurching urge to puke won out any further argument. He couldn’t risk wandering the city in the state he was in, and if Goodneighbor had at least an alley for him to curl up in for a few hours then he would happily chance it. He stuffed his pistol into the holster and made sure he had nothing valuable in his pockets before shouldering his way inside, wincing when the movement pulled against all the wrong muscles. Dogmeat followed him in and immediately began sniffing the ground, the main courtyard empty save for a drifter having a smoke near the gate and an assaultron manning one of the shops. The oddest part about the whole thing was the fact it was clean. Well, as clean as can be managed in the current situation. There was very little in the way of new litter, most of the trash and damage shoved off near the corners and in spots that seemed suspiciously linked to supporting the gate. For now at least the city was a far cry from what he had been led to believe. Nico sighed and made his way towards the bench, only making it a total of three steps before he was halted by the drifter. 

“Hold up, where do you think you’re goin’?” He turned to face the drifter and motioned towards the bench carefully, wincing when his chest flared with pain again. 

“Going to sit down…I won’t cause any trouble.”

“Ain’t you causing trouble I’m worried about. Y’see, first time in Goodneighbor means you need some insurance. Walking around here can get kind of…treacherous.” His heart dropped into his stomach at the shift in tone as the drifter stubbed out his cigarette and stepped closer, one hand going for the gun on his hip. It seemed Preston had been right after all. 

“I’m not going far into the town, I just need to sit down and rest a bit and then I’ll be out of here…”

“Nah, that ain’t happenin’. Here’s the thing, you step in here, you need insurance. Doesn’t matter how long you’re thinking of staying.” He moved closer, smirking and shoving Nico back against the gate, crowding him into the corner before motioning to his bag. “So, here’s how we’re gonna do this. You hand over everything you’ve got in that bag of yours or accidents are gonna start happening. Big, bloody accidents.” He took a handful of Nico’s shirt and yanked him forward, Dogmeat snarling and rounding on him the moment he made a move for his gun again. Nico stuck out a hand to pacify Dogmeat, trying to pull himself out of the drifter’s grip while staying as calm as he could in the current situation. The fact he felt ready to double over and puke on the man’s boots really wasn’t helping, but the drifter took a step back when another man called out from across the courtyard.

“Someone steps through the gates the first time, they’re a guest Finn. Lay off the extortion crap.” Finn huffed and shoved Nico back, turning to face the ghoul that had apparently stepped forward to stop him, Dogmeat immediately putting himself between the drifter and Nico with a warning growl. 

“The hell do you care huh? He ain’t one of us. Idiot’s carryin’ prewar tech around like he’s some hotshot.” The ghoul grinned wolfishly and stepped in between Nico and Finn as well, wrapping an arm around Nico’s shoulders and holding him a little bit too close for comfort. He was bony, but he was strong, and the grip was a very clear signal to stay put and let him do the talking, which Nico was more than happy to comply with if it meant not getting shanked. 

“I’m not seeing anything useful on him, looks like a damn waste of time to me. Just let it go, brother.”

“Bullshit, look at the Pip Boy he’s got, could make a damn fortune all on its own. Who knows what other vault goodies he’s got stuffed up his ass.” 

“I said let it go.” Nico barely held back a flinch at the sudden drop in Hancock’s tone, the threatening growl in his ear catching him completely off guard as Finn scowled and aimed a kick at Dogmeat, the mutt slipping out of the way and snapping his jaws at the drifter angrily.

“Goddamn, look at you. You’re getting fuckin’ soft Hancock, you keep letting assholes like him walk all over and eventually there’ll be a new mayor, one that doesn’t waste time with the minor shit.” He spat at him, the offending projectile barely missing Hancock’s boot and landing on the pavement, the ghoul simply chuckling and leaning back casually. 

“C’mon man, this is me we’re talking about. Lemme tell you something, man to man.” He released his hold on Nico and smiled, offering a hand to Finn, who stared at it in suspicion before stepping closer to hear what Hancock had to say. Words never passed between them, however, instead Hancock gripped his shoulder and yanked him closer, driving a knife into his stomach twice in rapid succession. By the time he had released Finn from his grasp the drifter was already done for, collapsing to the pavement and slowly creating a puddle of blood in his wake. 

“Had to go and break my heart with your words huh? Damn shame.” He flicked the blood off his knife and wiped it clean on his jacket, turning back to Nico with a smile as if he hadn’t just murdered a man in cold blood. “You alright brother?” Nico could only nod, swallowing down the bile burning in his throat. His voice came out hoarse when he finally managed to speak. 

“Yeah…thanks for taking care of him.” Hancock gave him a quick once over before grabbing his Pip Boy and checking the Geiger counter, sighing and waving to the assaultron to catch her attention. 

“KLEO, go and get Daisy, tell her to meet me in my office with a rad kit once she’s up and rolling.” He didn’t wait for a response, turning back to Nico and steering him towards the Old State House with a hand on his good shoulder, Dogmeat following them faithfully. “We’re gonna get you a place to sit and a bag of Rad-Away, then we can talk.”

“Really shouldn’t be accepting medication from a guy who just shanked someone…” He laughed and helped him up the stairs, the sound grating something awful across his nerves. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or the fact he hadn’t heard such a nice voice in a very, very long time, but either option was not comfortable to think about. 

“I’m the best guy to get medication from, just ask anyone around. Got every chem you’ll ever need, and then some if you’re really down to party. Here, sit. Try not to puke until I can find you a trashcan.” Hancock left him on the couch and went to find what he needed, humming to himself as he searched his desk. The coffee table was absolutely littered with drugs and food, several magazines and a newspaper piled underneath with spent beer bottles stacked, almost artfully, nearby. Hancock returned with an empty trashcan for him moments later, handing it over before meeting Daisy at the door. Whatever they spoke about went beyond his notice, his stomach finally deciding to revolt and consume all of his attention for the time being. It was not the most dignified thing puking in a trashcan in the mayor’s office, but it was a step above puking in an alleyway, so he really could not complain despite the entirely suspect number of stains on the couch cushions. By the time his stomach had finally settled he was more than a little lightheaded, but he was able to set the trashcan down and get into his bag for one of the cans of water without incident so he supposed it was a plus. Hancock finally finished with his prep and sat next to him, helping divest him of his jacket. 

“Let me guess, ferals.” He nodded, wincing as Hancock rolled up the sleeve of his vault suit and checked over one of the bite marks, soaking a rag in alcohol before dabbing the wound carefully. It burned, badly, but he was at least gentle with the cleaning.

“Yeah...didn’t mean to bother them, but it was dark. Walked right into them.” 

“Don’t gotta apologize to me about it, just be glad you made it out alive.” He tore off a length of bandage and wrapped it around his arm, tying it off before moving to look at his shoulder next, peeling back the collar of the vault suit and hissing in sympathy. “They really wanted a piece of you, didn’t they?”

“Guess so. I didn’t think ferals could give off so much radiation.”

“Depends, some of them are walking rad bags just because they’ve been hanging around the chemical waste for so long. You just got the short straw this time around.” He cleaned off the bite marks one by one until he was satisfied that they were all taken care of, settling into the couch and grabbing the bag of Rad-Away from the kit Daisy had brought him, cracking the seal and letting the deep red fluid drain down into the tube before pinching it off carefully. 

“You got a preference in arms?”

“None, I’m not confident I can get the needle in though.” Hancock winked at him and smiled, tying off his right arm and prodding at the inside of his elbow with a finger gently.

“Don’t worry about it. Got the best hands in the Commonwealth for this kinda thing. Just don’t pass out on me.” It took him all of eight seconds to find a vein and slip the needle in, one hand occupied with holding the needle in place while the other wrapped it off with some gauze. He squeezed the bag carefully and untied the tourniquet, letting the bag rest on the back of the couch. 

“There. You’ll probably get a bit drowsy so feel free to fall asleep if you need, I’ll be here regardless.” Nico nodded and sighed, buttoning up his flannel with his free hand.

“Thanks…how much is this going to cost me?” He smiled and sat back, grabbing a box of cigarettes from the coffee table. He shook out one and lit up, taking a long drag before finally responding. 

“For now, nothing.” 

“Sounds ominous.”

“I won’t ask for anything crazy, but I might have a job for you to do once you’re up for it.” Nico sighed and nodded, slumping back against the couch and letting his head rest against the cushions. He was too tired to feel dread for whatever Hancock wanted him to do in return for the aid he was being given, he just hoped that once he woke up he still had all his parts. He let himself sink further into the couch, closing his eyes and letting Dogmeat rest his head on his thighs, barely noticing when he finally fell asleep. 

 

Hancock finished off his cigarette and cleared out the trashcan before he decided to check the drifter’s bag. It wasn’t exactly snooping, snooping would mean he cared that he got caught, but Fahrenheit would rip him a new asshole if he didn’t make sure there wasn’t anything dangerous on his newest guest before letting his guard down completely. The dog seemed calm enough now that his owner was giving him mid-sleep ear scratches, and he didn’t move to stop him from grabbing the bag and opening it in his lap. The contents were pretty run of the mill, mostly consisting of food, water, ammo boxes, stimpaks, a badly cared for field survival book, and a collection of packaged vault suits from 114. Seemed he was a vault crawler then, and one that didn’t seem to have much experience in the survival department. Explained where he had gotten the Pip Boy, if nothing else. He sighed and dug into the front pouch, digging out the holotape that had been rattling around in the bottom. It looked old, but far from damaged, and that meant he was keeping it around for something. More than enough reason to have a listen. Hancock dragged himself up from the couch once he had grabbed a couple of mentats from the nearest tin, sticking the tablets under his tongue before stepping around to the other side of the couch and slipping off the Pip Boy from the drifter’s arm as gently as he could to keep from rousing him. That got the dog’s attention, his quiet growl being the only warning that was needed before he was back to watching his owner sleep on the couch, tail wagging slightly every time he moved even a little bit. Hancock fiddled with the Pip Boy as he walked, flopping back into his spot on the couch and kicking up a leg on the table to get comfortable as the mentats started seeping into his bloodstream, the fizzy sensation filling his mouth now that the tablets had dissolved. They had the most pleasant high out of everything he could have taken, all things considered, but the fastest to run down too. Good for some impromptu brainstorming. He hummed and finally got the tape player to open, slipping in the holotape without much preamble and hitting play. It took a moment for the tape to start, but once it did he was met with the sound of a baby babbling on the other end of the recorder, as well as another man apparently handling the mouthy child as it grabbed at the device. 

’Oops, no, no, fingers away. Alright, there, now, go ahead, say it.’ The baby kept babbling nonsense, deigning not to speak to whoever the tape had been intended for. ‘Oh well, maybe next time. Hey, honey. Listen…I know things have been hard for us ever since I’ve gotten back from Alaska…and…I don’t think things will ever be the way they were at the start. They really can’t, not with the way things are going, the world is changing too fast for either of us to make any sense of it but at least we have each other, right?’ The man sighed, his voice getting quieter as he spoke. His kid had calmed down too, gurgling and bouncing with less volume than before. 

‘I know you aren’t really in your right mind right now, and I know it must be hard thinking no one has your back, but I’m doing what I can to make sure you get back to being you. I’ve always been in your corner, even when I couldn’t be there physically. I just wish…I just wish your depression didn’t twist things up so much, you know? I wish I could see you smile again…see you wear that green dress my mom bought you after you got out of the hospital. I know we can’t go out as much with my back being...as messed up as it is, and I know you don’t want anyone to see you right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that I love you. So much.’ He chuckled, patting his son’s back gently. ‘I’m recording this because for right now we can’t talk to each other without something going wrong, and I don’t want to keep fighting you over your own confusion. I just want to let you know that things are going to be okay. Shaun’s with us, and you’re getting better. The meds are doing great, you’ve gained weight since I got back…you may disagree, but the pregnancy was good for you, good for _us_. And who knows? Maybe you can get back to working for the law firm again, they called and said they’d consider taking you back as a secretary if you ever reapplied. I know it wouldn’t be the same as fighting cases in court but it’d be work again, work that’d get you back in the groove of things. I can stay with Shaun, maybe get a job where I can work from home, and we can start rebuilding. So, I’ve got to go now since Harold just walked up but know that no matter what happens I love you. We love you.’ The tape finally ended, leaving him with an unsettling sense of dread. It was uncomfortable hearing the voice of someone before the war, hearing how hopeful and _normal_ they sounded about how things were going. There must have been some indication things were ending, it couldn’t have caught so many people off guard. Daisy had told him a little bit about the world before the world but she had been bitter about how people were back then, and that colored what she had told him whether she liked it or not. Little pieces of the world like this were almost like a promise of what could be again, but he didn’t like to get too hopeful. Things the way they were right now were just fine for him. He hummed and ejected the tape, slipping it back into the drifter’s bag before going back to fiddling with the Pip Boy, flipping through the tabs one by one and scanning the contents. Eventually Fahrenheit returned from her patrol and slumped down onto the couch across from him, kicking her legs up with a long sigh. 

“You bored him to death.”

“Who, me? Nah, he just needed a nap is all. Got fucked up by some ferals.” She nodded and yanked open a bottle of beer, tossing the bottlecap on the table where several others had accumulated in the mess. “A shame Finn had to go and be stupid, I’ll miss him.”

“He was always stupid, he just happened to do it while some pretty new piece walked into town.”

“If it wasn’t me he probably would have gotten stabbed eventually.” Fahrenheit just rolled her eyes, watching the dog paw at his owner’s lap before hopping up onto the couch and curling up between him and Hancock. If he was stupid he could have sworn he saw her smile, but he wasn’t stupid, nor did he want to get sucker punched for suggesting she found animals cute. 

“Mhm, sure. Already went through his stuff I see.”

“Basic security check, just like you want me to do.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Buddy boy here really likes the vault suits, got six or seven of them still in the package plus the one he’s wearing.”

“Vaultophile then.”

“That or he’s been looking for a way to make caps without a whole lot of risk. What he’d need the money for is a mystery but everybody’s got something they want, so more power to him.” She hummed but didn’t respond, drinking down her beer while he kept fiddling around with the Pip Boy. “You got any word back on Bobbi?”

“Not yet, she’s still prowling around but there’s not much evidence she’s being anything but a surly bitch.”

“Not much still implies there’s something.”

“Yep. She went and broke her friend Mel out of jail in Diamond City. And a couple of the guys in the watch told me that she’s been promising to pay people for a little bit of a dig in that old root cellar.”

“Lookin’ for treasure. Didn’t take her as a fanciful lady.” 

“The subway station underneath leads you-know-where, Hancock.” He nodded, sighing and setting the Pip Boy on the table. “So what are we gonna do about it.” 

“I’ve got a plan but I’m going to need you to get in contact with Mac first. Make sure he’s still onboard to check out that gallery up north.”

“Are you sending him alone?”

“No, I’m gonna send this one with him. If he holds up and does a good job reporting in then I’m gonna have the two of them go and help Bobbi. Catch my drift?” She frowned and looked at the sleeping drifter, giving him a slightly uncertain look before nodding. “What? He’ll be fine.” 

“He nearly pissed himself when Finn came after him, do you really think sending him with Mac up to deep Raider territory will go over well?” 

“Mac won’t let him get himself killed, and if he’s a shitty scout then I pay him and send him on his way and I’ll just figure something else out for Bobbi. Drifter here owes me for the services I’ve rendered, so it’ll be fair payment to do a couple of jobs for me.”

“Manipulative as ever mister mayor.” He grinned and tossed his hat onto his desk, grabbing a beer for himself and leaning back. 

“Hey, gotta get my dues somehow.”


End file.
